45 Tell me, Moon, thou pale and grey Weary Wind, who wanderest CONTENTMENT P. B. SHELLEY 46 HORT is our span; then why engage was ne'er by fate design'd? Why slight the gift of Nature's hand? 'What wanderer from his native land e'er left himself behind? For me, O Shore, I only claim a state above the fear of want, domestic love,-Heaven's choicest grant- WHY, AGAINST REGRET age WARREN HASTINGS HY, why repine, my pensive friend, Some the stern Fates will never lend, I see the rainbow in the sky, With folded arms I linger not I know they'll shine again. W. S. LANDOR 47 INFLUENCE OF MUSIC RPHEUS with his lute made trees, bow themselves, when he did sing: Everything that heard him play, hung their heads, and then lay by. W. SHAKESPEARE 48 49 FE TO A SKYLARK EATHERED lyric! warbling high, While the bloom of orient light W. THOMPSON THE WORLD WHETHER men do laugh or weep, whether they do wake or sleep, whether they feel heat or cold, All our pride is but a jest, none are worst and none are best: 50 THE PRIMROSE SK me why I send you here ASK this firstling of the infant year; ask me why I send to you this primrose all bepearled with dew; Ask me why this flower doth show so yellow, green, and sickly too; what doubts and fears are in a lover. T. CAREW 51 SONG TO BRITANNIA FAIREST isle, all isles excelling, seat of pleasures and of loves; Cupid from his favourite nation Gentle murmurs, sweet complaining, J. DRYDEN 52 HA THE INJURED LOVER AD I a cave on some wild distant shore, where the winds howl to the waves' dashing roar, there would I weep my woes, there seek my lost repose, till grief my eyes should close, Falsest of womankind, canst thou declare what peace is there! R. BURNS 53 TO A FAIR YOUNG LADY, GOING OUT OF THE TOWN IN SPRING SK not the cause why sullen Spring ASK so long delays her flowers to bear; she cast not back a pitying eye: to sigh, to languish, and to die: J. DRYDEN 54 THE FOLLY OF MAKING TROUbles. H, fading joy, how quickly art thou past! AH, yet we thy ruin haste: as if the cares of human life were few, we seek out new: and follow fate, which would too fast pursue. F. S. II. 2 See, how on every bough the birds express they all enjoy and nothing spare; but on their mother Nature lay their care: as none of all his subjects undergo? J. DRYDEN 55 56 THE SONG HE merry waves dance up and down and play, sport is granted to the sea: birds are the queristers of th' empty air, sport is never wanting there, the ground doth smile at the spring's flowery birth, the fire its cheering flame on high doth rear, if all the elements, the earth, the sea, air and fire, so merry be; why is man's mirth so seldom and so small, TO THE REDBREAST UNHEARD in summer's flaring ray, pour forth thy notes, sweet singer, wooing the stillness of the autumn day: bid it a moment linger, nor fly too soon from winter's scowling eye. The blackbird's song at eventide, with calm decay and peace divine. A. COWLEY H. CORNISH |