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70

ELIZABETH'S SONG

OH! that we two were maying

over the fragrant leas;

like children with young flowers playing
down the stream of the rich spring breeze.

Oh! that we two sat dreaming

on the sward of some sheep-trimmed down;
watching the white mist streaming,

from river and mead and town.

Oh! that we two lay sleeping

under the church-yard sod;

with our limbs at rest in the quiet earth's breast, and our souls at home with God!

C. KINGSLEY

71

RE

TRANQUILLITY

OETIRE, and timely, from the world, if ever thou hopest tranquil days:

its gaudy jewels from thy bosom sever,

despise its pomp and praise.

The purest star that looks into the stream

its slightest ripple shakes,

and Peace, where'er its fierce splendours gleam,

her brooding nest forsakes.

The quiet planets roll with even motion

in the still skies alone;

o'er Ocean they dance joyously, but Ocean

they find no rest upon.

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W. S. LANDOR

WE'LL GO NO MORE A ROVING

So, we'll go no more a roving

so late into the night,

though the heart be still as loving,
and the moon be still as bright.

For the sword outwears its sheath,
and the heart wears out the breast,

and lips must pause to breathe,
and love itself have rest.

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Though the night was made for loving

and the day returns too soon, yet we'll go no more a roving

by the light of the moon.

ON CHLORIS BEING ILL

AN I cease to care?

CAN

can I cease to languish, while my darling fair

is on the couch of anguish?

Every hope is fled,

every fear is terror;
slumber even I dread,
every dream is horror.

Hear me, Pow'rs divine!
O, in pity hear me!
take aught else of mine,
but my Chloris spare me!

LORD BYRON

R. BURNS

I'

HOME

'VE roamed through many a weary round,
I've wandered east and west,

pleasure in every clime I've found,

but sought in vain for rest.

While glory sighs for other spheres,

I feel that one's too wide,

and think the home, which love endears,
worth all the world beside.

The needle thus, too rudely moved,
wanders unconscious where ;

till having found the place it loved,
it trembling settles there.

GRIEF AND BEAUTY

RY those fair, those crystal eyes,

T. MOORE

to drown their banks. Grief's sullen brooks
would better flow in furrowed looks:

76

thy lovely face was never meant
to be the shore of discontent.
Then clear those waterish stars again,
which else portend a lasting rain;
lest the clouds which settle there
prolong my winter all the year:
and the example others make,
in love with sorrow for thy sake.

AGAINST DESIRE OF LONG LIFE

H. KING

LL-BUSIED man! why should'st thou take such

ILL-BU

care

to lengthen out thy life's short kalendar? when every spectacle thou look'st upon, presents and acts thy execution:

each drooping season and each flower doth cry,
'Fool! as I fade and wither thou must die.'

The beating of thy pulse, when thou art well,
is just the tolling of thy passing bell:
night is thy hearse, whose sable canopy
covers alike deceased day and thee,

and all those weeping dews, which nightly fall,
are but the tears shed for thy funeral.

H. KING

77

THE

THE BLESSING OF SYMPATHY

HE low sweet tones of Nature's lyre
no more on listless ears expire,

nor vainly smiles along the shady way
the primrose in her vernal nest,

nor unlamented sink to rest

sweet roses one by one, nor autumn leaves decay.

There's not a star the heaven can show,

there's not a cottage hearth below,

but feeds with solace kind the willing soul-
men love us or they need our love;
freely they own, or heedless prove

the curse of lawless hearts, the joy of self-control.

J. KEBLE

78

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TO A LADY

OO late I've stayed, forgive the crime;
unheeded flew the hours:

how noiseless falls the foot of Time,

that only treads on flowers!

What eye with clear account remarks
the ebbings of the glass,

when all its sands are diamond sparks,
that dazzle as they pass?

Ah, who to sober measurement
Time's happy fleetness brings,
when birds of Paradise have lent
their plumage for his wings!

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W. R. SPENCER

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like tones-oh! never to be heard again,

like voices from the sea

where the sea-maids be,

like aught of pleasure with a touch of pain.

A more melodious tune

never beneath the moon

was uttered, since the Delphian girls were young, and the chaste Dian, bright

with beauty and delight,

lay listening on the mountains, while they sung.

EPITAPH ON THE LADY MARY VILLIERS

'HE lady Mary Villiers lies

THE

under this stone; with weeping eyes
the parents that first gave her birth,
and their sad friends, laid her in earth:
if any of them (reader) were

known unto thee, shed a tear;
or if thyself possess a gem,
as dear to thee, as this to them;

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though a stranger to this place,
bewail in theirs thine own hard case;
for thou perhaps at thy return
may'st find thy darling in an urn.

OF

WOLFRAM'S SONG IN TANNHAUSER

T. CAREW

H! from your sacred seats look down,
angels and ministers of good;
with sanctity our spirits crown,
and crush the vices of the blood!

Open our hearts and set them free
that heavenly light may enter in ;
and from this fair society
obliterate the taint of sin.

Thee, holy Love, I bid arise
propitious to my votive lay;
shine thou upon our darken'd eyes,
and lead us on the perfect way.

GAIETY

83

I laughed and danced and talked and sung;
and fond of health, of freedom vain,
dream'd not of sorrow, care or pain;
concluding in those hours of glee,
that all the world was made for me.

But when the hour of trial came,
and sickness shook this trembling frame;
when folly's gay pursuits were o'er,
and I could dance and sing no more-
it then occurr'd how sad 'twould be,
were this world only made for me.

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