1818.

Thus, 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 linked together,
I've seen around me fall,

Like leaves in wintry weather;
I feel like one

Who treads alone

Some banquet-hall deserted,

Whose lights are fled,
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.

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28

Thomas Moore.

TEARS, IDLE TEARS

TEARS, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy Autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more.

Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld,

5

Mother, I Cannot Mind my Wheel

Sad as the last which reddens over one
That sinks with all we love below the verge;
So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.

Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns The earliest pipe of half-awaken'd birds To dying ears, when unto dying eyes

ΙΟ

The casement slowly grows a glimmering square; So sad, so strange, the days that are no more.

Dear as remember'd kisses after death,
And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign'd
On lips that are for others; deep as love,
Deep as first love, and wild with all regret;
O Death in Life, the days that are no more!
1847.

Lord Tennyson.

15

20

MOTHER, I CANNOT MIND MY WHEEL

1846.

MOTHER, I cannot mind my wheel;
My fingers ache, my lips are dry :
Oh! if you felt the pain I feel!
But oh, who ever felt as I!
No longer could I doubt him true-
All other men may use deceit ;
He always said my eyes were blue,
And often swore my lips were sweet.

Walter Savage Landor.

66

WHEN THE LAMP IS SHAT

TERED"

WHEN the lamp is shattered
The light in the dust lies dead-
When the cloud is scattered
The rainbow's glory is shed.
When the lute is broken,

Sweet tones are remembered not;
When the lips have spoken,
Loved accents are soon forgot.

As music and splendour
Survive not the lamp and the lute,
The heart's echoes render

No song when the spirit is mute :-
No song but sad dirges,

Like the wind through a ruined cell,

Or the mournful surges

That ring the dead seaman's knell.

When hearts have once mingled
Love first leaves the well-built nest,
The weak one is singled

To endure what is once possessed.

O Love! who bewailest

8

16

I Complete my Thirty-Sixth Year

The frailty of all things here,

Why choose you the frailest

For your cradle, your home, and your
bier?

Its passions will rock thee

As the storms rock the ravens on high:

Bright reason will mock thee,

Like the sun from a wintry sky.
From thy nest every rafter
Will rot, and thine eagle home

Leave thee naked to laughter,

When leaves fall and cold winds come.

24

32

Percy Bysshe Shelley.

ON THIS DAY I COMPLETE MY

THIRTY-SIXTH YEAR

'T is time this heart should be unmoved,
Since others it hath ceased to move:
Yet, though I cannot be beloved,
Still let me love!

My days are in the yellow leaf;

The flowers and fruits of love are gone;
The worm, the canker, and the grief

Are mine alone!

4

8

The fire that on my bosom preys

Is lone as some volcanic isle; No torch is kindled at its blazeA funeral pile.

The hope, the fear, the jealous care,
The exalted portion of the pain
And power of love, I cannot share,
But wear the chain.

But 't is not thus-and 't is not here-
Such thoughts should shake my soul,

nor now,

Where glory decks the hero's bier,
Or binds his brow.

The sword, the banner, and the field,
Glory and Greece, around me see!
The Spartan, borne upon his shield,
Was not more free.

12

16

20

24

Awake! (not Greece-she is awake!)
Awake, my spirit! Think through whom
Thy life-blood tracks its parent lake,
And then strike home!

Tread those reviving passions down,
Unworthy manhood!-unto thee
Indifferent should the smile or frown
Of beauty be,

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