The Day is Done Come, read to me some poem, Some simple and heartfelt lay, Not from the grand old masters, Through the corridors of Time. For, like strains of martial music, 16 20 24 Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, 28 Who, through long days of labor, Still heard in his soul the music Such songs have power to quiet And come like the benediction That follows after prayer. Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, 32 36 And lend to the rhyme of the poet And the night shall be filled with music, 1844. 40 44 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. THE POET'S SONG TO HIS WIFE How many Summers, love, Have I been thine? How many days, thou dove, Some weight of thought, though loath, On thee he leaves; Some lines of care round both Perhaps he weaves; Some fears, a soft regret For joys scarce known; Sweet looks we half forget; All else is flown! 16 To Mary Ah! With what thankless heart Look, where our children start, With tongues all sweet and low, They tell how much I owe To thee and Time! 24 Bryan Waller Procter. 1832. TO MARY THE twentieth year is well-nigh past, Thy spirits have a fainter flow, I see thee daily weaker grow; 'T was my distress that brought thee low, My Mary! Thy needles, once a shining store, Now rust disused, and shine no more, For though thou gladly wouldst fulfil 12 16 But well thou play'dst the housewife's part, Thy indistinct expressions seem Like language utter'd in a dream; 20 Yet me they charm, whate'er the theme, 24 Thy silver locks, once auburn bright, For, could I view nor them nor thee, Partakers of thy sad decline, Thy hands their little force resign; Such feebleness of limbs thou prov'st My Mary! 28 32 36 40 1793. John Anderson My Jo And still to love, though press'd with ill, With me is to be lovely still, But ah! by constant heed I know And should my future lot be cast 44 48 With much resemblance of the past, 52 William Cowper. JOHN ANDERSON MY JO JOHN ANDERSON my jo, John, John Anderson my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither, |