I stopp'd and said, with inly-mutter'd voice, 'The sunshine may not cheer it, nor the dew; Stiff in its members, wither'd, changed of hue,'- O Man! that from thy fair and shining youth CCLXVIII PAST AND PRESENT I remember, I remember The laburnum on his birth-day,- I remember, I remember Where I was used to swing, And thought the air must rush as fresh To swallows on the wing; My spirit flew in feathers then That is so heavy now, And summer pools could hardly cool The fever on my brow. I remember, I remember But now 'tis little joy To know I'm farther off from Heaven Than when I was a boy. CCLXIX T. Hood THE LIGHT OF OTHER DAYS Oft in the stilly night Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Fond Memory brings the light Of other days around me: The words of love then spoken; The eyes that shone, Now dimm'd and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken! Tnus in the stilly night Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Sad Memory brings the light Of other days around me. When I remember all The friends so link'd together I've seen around me fall Like leaves in wintry weather, I feel like one Who treads alone Whose garlands dead, And all but he departed! Thus in the stilly night Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Sad Memory brings the light Of other days around me. T. Moore CCLXX STANZAS WRITTEN IN DEJECTION The sun is warm, the sky is clear, Like many a voice of one delight— The winds', the birds', the ccean-floods'- With green and purple sea-weeds strown; Like light dissolved in star-showers thrown: The lightning of the noon-tide ocean Is flashing round me, and a tone Arises from its measured motion How sweet! did any heart now share in my emotion Alas! I have nor hope nor health, Nor peace within nor calm around, And walk'd with inward glory crown'd- To me that cup has been dealt in another measure. Even as the winds and waters are ; Which I have borne, and yet must bear,— My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea CCLXXI THE SCHOLAR My days among the Dead are past; Where'er these casual eyes are cast, My never-failing friends are they, With them I take delight in weal And while I understand and feel My cheeks have often been bedew'd With tears of thoughtful gratitude. My thoughts are with the Dead; with them Their virtues love, their faults condemn, And from their lessons seek and find My hopes are with the Dead ; anon Yet leaving here a name, I trust, CCLXXII R. Southey THE MERMAID TAVERN Souls of Poets dead and gone, S Or are fruits of Paradise I have heard that on a day To a sheepskin gave the story, And pledging with contented smack Souls of Poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern? J. Keats CCLXXIII THE PRIDE OF YOUTH Proud Maisie is in the wood, Sweet Robin sits on the bush, "Tell me, thou bonny bird, When shall I marry me?' -'When six braw gentlemen Kirkward shall carry ye.' 'Who makes the bridal bed, The gray-headed sexton |