What humanity is robb'd of, What we lose, because we honour And dispirit Living merit, Heaping scorn upon its head? Or perchance, when kinder grown, CHARLES MACKAY. THE BACHELOR'S COMPLAINT. RETURNING home at close of day, -Nobody! Who wheels about the easy chair, -Nobody! Who regulates the cheerful fire, Who piles the blazing fuel higher, And bids me draw my chair still nigher? -Nobody! When plunged in dire and deep distress, Who whispers hopes of happiness? -Nobody! When anxious thoughts within me rise, Who soothes me with her kind replies? When sickness racks my feeble frame, -Nobody! Then I'll resolve, so help me fate, SOMEBODY! ANONYMOUS. THE HUSBAND'S SONG. RAINY and rough sets the day, There's a heart beating for somebody; I must be up and away, Somebody's waiting for somebody. Thrice hath she been to the gate, Thrice hath she listened for somebody; 'Midst the night stormy and late, Somebody's anxious for somebody! There'll be a comforting fire,- Will look to the table for somebody. There'll be a coat o'er the chair, There will be slippers for somebody,There'll be a wife's tender care,— Love's fond embracement for somebody: There'll be the little one's charms,— Soon 'twill be waken'd for somebody: When I have both in my arms, Oh! but how blest will be somebody! CHAS. SWAIN. FATHER WILLIAM. You are old, father William," the young man cried, 66 The few locks which are left you are grey; You are hale, Father William, a hearty old man ; "In the days of my youth," Father William replied, "I remember'd that youth would fly fast, And abused not my health and my vigour at first, "You are old, Father William," the young man cried, "And pleasures with youth pass away, And yet you lament not the days that are gone ; "In the days of my youth," Father William replied, I remembered that youth could not last ; I thought of the future, whatever I did, That I never might grieve for the past." "You are old, Father William," the young man cried, 66 And life must be hastening away : You are cheerful, and love to converse upon death; Now tell me the reason, I pray?" "I am cheerful, young man," Father William replied, “Let the cause thy attention engage; In the days of my youth I remember'd my God; THE THREE SONS. SOUTHEY. I HAVE a son, a little son, a boy just five years old, With eyes of thoughtful earnestness, and mind of gentle mould; They tell me that unusual grace in all his ways appears, That my child is grave and wise of head, beyond his childish years. I cannot say how this may be, I know his face is fair, And yet his chiefest comeliness is his sweet and serious air: I know his heart is kind and fond, I know he loveth me ; And loveth yet his mother more with grateful fervency. But that which others most admire is the thought that fills his mind, The food for grave inquiring speech he every where doth find. Strange questions doth he ask of me, when we together walk; |