"WHOSE MIND IS BUT THE MIND OF HIS OWN EYES, HE IS A SLAVE, THE MEANEST WE CAN MEET."-worDSWORTH.

[BRYAN WALLER PROCTER, better known by his nom de plume of 'Barry Cornwall," born 1790. He has given to the world numerous works, the best of which are the "Dramatic Scenes," "Marcian Colonna," and "Mirandola ;" but is most likely to be remembered by his songs, which are alternately picturesque, pathetic, and sentimental.]

"BEFORE TIME'S BREATH, LIKE BLAZING FLAX, MAN AND HIS MARVELS PASS AWAY."-SIR W. SCOTT.

THE OWL.

N the hollow tree, in the gray old tower,

The spectral owl doth dwell;

Dull, hated, despised in the sunshine hour,
But at dusk-he's abroad and well :

Not a bird of the forest e'er mates with him;
All mock him outright by day;

But at night, when the woods grow still and dim,
The boldest will shrink away;

Oh, when the night falls, and roosts the fowl,
Then, then is the reign of the horned owl!

And the owl hath a bride who is fond and bold,
And loveth the wood's deep gloom;

AND HOPE IS BRIGHTEST WHEN IT DAWNS FROM FEARS."-SCOTT.

"WE THINK NOT WHAT WE DAILY SEE ABOUT OUR HEARTHS-ANGELS THAT ARE TO BE,"LEIGH HUNT)

258

DELIGHT AND LIBERTY, THE SIMPLE CREED

THE OWL.

"OR MAY BE IF THEY WILL; AND WE PREPARE OUR SOULS TO MEET IN HAPPY AIR."-LEIGH HUNT.

And with eyes like the shine of the moonshine cold
She awaiteth her ghastly groom!

Not a feather she moves, not a carol she sings,
As she waits in her tree so still;

But when her heart heareth his flapping wing,
She hoots out her welcome shrill !

Oh, when the moon shines, and the dogs do howl,
Then, then is the cry of the horned owl!

Mourn not for the owl nor his gloomy plight!
The owl hath his share of good:

If a prisoner he be in the broad daylight,
He is lord in the dark green wood!

OF CHILDHOOD, WHETHER BUSY OR AT REST."-WORDSWORTH.

66 EARTH FILLS HER LAP WITH PLEASURES OF HER OWN."-WORDSWORTH.

THE STORMY PETREL.

Nor lonely the bird, nor his ghastly mate;

They are each unto each a pride

Thrice fonder, perhaps, since a strange dark fate

Hath rent them from all beside !

So when the night falls, and dogs do howl,
Sing ho! for the reign of the horned owl!
We know not alway who are kings by day,

But the king of the night is the bold brown owl.

[BARRY CORNWALL. From "English Songs."]

259

"REDEEM THE HOURS, THE SPACE IS BRIEF, WHILE IN TIME'S GLASS THE SAND-GRAINS SHIVER;

THE STORMY PETREL.

THOUSAND miles from land are we,

Tossing about on the roaring sea;
From billow to bounding billow cast,
Like fleecy snow on the stormy blast :
The sails are scattered abroad, like weeds,
The strong masts shake like quivering reeds;
The mighty cables, and iron chains,

The hull, which all earthly strength disdains,
They strain and they crack, and hearts like stone,
Their natural, hard, proud strength disown.

Up and down! up and down!

From the base of the wave to the billow's crown;
And amidst the flashing and feathery foam
The Stormy Petrel finds a home-

A home, if such a place may be,

For her who lives on the wide, wide sea,

On the craggy ice, in the frozen air,

And only seeketh her rocky lair

"6 HEAVEN LIES ABOUT US IN OUR INFANCY." -WORDSWORTH.

AND MEASURELESS THY JOY OR GRIEF WHEN TIME AND THOU SHALT PART FOR EVER."-SCOTT.

"THE MIND THAT BROODS O'ER GUILTY WOES IS, LIKE THE SCORPION, GIRT WITH FIRE."-BYRON.

260

FAR AS THE BREEZE CAN BEAR, THE BILLOWS FOAM,

THE STORMY PETREL.

"OURS THE WILD LIFE IN TUMULT STILL TO RANGE FROM TOIL TO REST, AND JOY IN EVERY CHANGE."-BYRON.

To warm her young, and to teach them spring
At once o'er the waves on their stormy wing!

O'er the deep! O'er the deep!

Where the whale, and the shark, and the sword-fish
sleep,

Outflying the blast and the driving rain,
The Petrel telleth her tale-in vain :
For the mariner curseth the warning bird,
Who bringeth him news of the storm unheard!
-Ah, thus the prophet, of good or ill,
Meet hate from the creatures he serveth still!
Yet he ne'er falters :-So, Petrel! spring
Once more o'er the waves with thy stormy wing!

[BARRY CORNWALL. From "English Songs."]

SURVEY OUR EMPIRE, AND BEHOLD OUR HOME."-BYRON.

66 OTHER MEN'S SINS WE EVER BEAR IN MIND;

MARCH.

261

MARCH.

HE stormy March has come at last,

With wind, and cloud, and changing skies.
I hear the rustle of the blast
That through the snowy valley flies.

Ah, passing few are they who speak,

Wild stormy month, in praise of thee;
Yet, though thy winds are loud and bleak,
Thou art a welcome month to me.

"OH, FEAR NOT IN A WORLD LIKE THIS, AND THOU SHALT KNOW ERE LONG

KNOW HOW SUBLIME A THING IT IS TO SUFFER AND BE STRONG."-LONGFELLOW.

For thou to northern lands again
The glad and glorious sun dost bring,
And thou hast joined the gentle train
And wear'st the gentle name of Spring.

And in thy reign of blast and storm,

Smile many a long bright sunny day,
When the changed winds are soft and warm,
And heaven puts on the blue of May.

Then sing aloud the gushing rills

And the full springs from frost set free,
That, brightly leaping down the hills,
Are just set out to meet the sea.

The year's departing beauty hides

Of wintry storms the sullen threat;

But in thy sternest frown abides

A look of kindly promise yet.

NONE SEES THE FARDEL OF HIS FAULTS BEHIND."-HERRICK.