IN CLXIV TO-MORROW N the downhill of life, when I find I'm declining, Than a snug elbow-chair can afford for reclining, With an ambling pad-pony to pace o'er the lawn, And blithe as the lark that each day hails the dawn With a porch at my door, both for shelter and shade too, As the sunshine or rain may prevail; And a small spot of ground for the use of the spade too, With a barn for the use of the flail: A cow for my dairy, a dog for my game, And a purse when a friend wants to borrow; I'll envy no nabob his riches or fame, Nor what honours await him to-morrow. From the bleak northern blast may my cot be completely Secured by a neighbouring hill ;_ And at night may repose steal upon me more sweetly By the sound of a murmuring rill: And while peace and plenty I find at my board, With a heart free from sickness and sorrow, With my friends may I share what to-day may afford, And let them spread the table to-morrow. And when I at last must throw off this frail covering But my face in the glass I'll serenely survey, And with smiles count each wrinkle and furrow; As this old worn-out stuff, which is threadbare to-day, May become everlasting to-morrow. L CLXV IFE! I know not what thou art, But know that thou and I must part; And when, or how, or where we met I own to me 's a secret yet. Life! we've been long together Through pleasant and through cloudy weather; 'Tis hard to part when friends are dear— Perhaps 't will cost a sigh, a tear; - Then steal away, give little warning, Choose thine own time; Say not Good Night, — but in some brighter clime Bid me Good Morning. A. L. Barbauld BOOK FOURTH CLXVI ON FIRST LOOKING INTO CHAPMAN'S Μ' HOMER. UCH have I travell'd in the realms of gold And many goodly states and kingdoms seen; Round many western islands have I been Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold. Oft of one wide expanse had I been told - Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez-when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific, and all his men J. Keats CLXVII ODE ON THE POETS OARDS of Passion and of Mirth have left your souls on earth 1 Have ye souls in heaven too, - Yes, and those of heaven commune Browsed by none but Dian's fawns ; Thus ye live on high, and then Of their sorrows and delights; Of their passions and their spites; Of their glory and their shame; What doth strengthen and what maim:— Bards of Passion and of Mirth Double-lived in regions new! CLXVIII J. Keats LOVE LL thoughts, all passions, all delights, Although stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, Oft in my waking dreams do I The moonshine stealing o'er the scene She lean'd against the arméd man, Amid the lingering light. |