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The clouds are round us, and the snow-drifts thicken,
O thou dear Shepherd, leave us not to sicken
In the waste night,-our tardy footsteps quicken,
At evening bring us home.

Anon.

CXXXV.

TO A SKY-LARK.

THEREAL minstrel ! pilgrim of the sky!

Dost thou despise the earth where cares abound? Or, while the wings aspire, are heart and eye Both with thy nest upon the dewy ground? Thy nest which thou canst drop into at will, Those quivering wings composed, that music still!

Leave to the nightingale her shady wood;
A privacy of glorious light is thine;

Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood
Of harmony, with instinct more divine;

Type of the wise who soar, but never roam;

True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home!

W. Wordsworth.

CXXXVI.

IT'S HAME, AND IT'S HAME.

T'S hame, and it's hame, hame fain wad I be,

An' it's hame, hame, hame, to my ain countree!
When the flower is i' the bud and the leaf is on

the tree,

The lark shall sing me hame in my ain countree;
It's hame, and it's hame, hame fain wad I be,
An' it's hame, hame, hame, to my ain countree!

The green leaf o' loyaltie 's beginning for to fa',
The bonnie white rose it is withering an' a';
But I'll water 't wi' the blude of usurping tyrannie,
An' green it will grow in my ain countree.

It's hame, and it's hame, hame fain wad I be,
An' it's hame, hame, hame, to my ain countree.

There's naught now frae ruin my country can save,
But the keys o' kind heaven to open the grave,
That a' the noble martyrs who died for loyaltie
May rise again and fight for their ain countree.
It's hame, and it's hame, hame fain wad I be,
An' it's hame, hame, hame, to my ain countree !

The great now are gane, a' who ventured to save,
The new grass is springing on the tap o' their grave;
But the sun thro' the mirk blinks blythe in my ee;
'I'll shine on ye yet in your ain countree.'
It's hame, and it's hame, hame fain wad I be,
An' it's hame, hame, hame, to my ain countree!

A. Cunningham.

CXXXVII.

'BLESSED ARE THEY THAT MOURN.'

H, deem not they are blest alone Whose lives a peaceful tenor keep; The Power who pities man, has shown A blessing for the eyes that weep.

The light of smiles shall fill again
The lids that overflow with tears;
And weary hours of woe and pain

Are promises of happier years.

There is a day of sunny rest

For every dark and troubled night; And grief may bide an evening guest, But joy shall come with early light.

And thou, who, o'er thy friend's low bier,
Sheddest the bitter drops like rain,
Hope that a brighter, happier sphere
Will give him to thy arms again.

Nor let the good man's trust depart,
Though life its common gifts deny,-
Though with a pierced and broken heart,
And spurned of men, he goes to die.

For God has marked each sorrowing day
And numbered every secret tear,
And heaven's long age of bliss shall pay
For all his children suffer here.

W. C. Bryant.

CXXXVIII.

T fortifies my soul to know
That, though I perish, Truth is so :
That, howsoe'er I stray and range,
Whate'er I do, Thou dost not change.
I steadier step when I recall
That, if I slip, Thou dost not fall.

A. H. Clough.

CXXXIX.

L'ALLEGRO.1

ENCE, loathéd Melancholy,

Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born

In Stygian cave forlorn,

'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy! Find out some uncouth cell

Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings, And the night-raven sings;

There under ebon shades and low-browed rocks,

As ragged as thy locks,

In dark Cimmerian2 desert ever dwell.

But come, thou goddess fair and free,
In heaven ycleped Euphrosyne,3

And by men, heart-easing Mirth;

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Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee
Jest and youthful Jollity,

5

Quips and Cranks, and wanton Wiles,
Nods, and Becks, and wreathéd Smiles,
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,

And love to live in dimple sleek;
Sport that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his sides.
Come, and trip it as you go,
On the light fantastic toe;

And in thy right hand lead with thee

The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty;

1 L'Allegro. The Cheerful Man.

2 Cimmerian, ‘the Cimmerii, in Homer, a people of the west, dwelling in

a country of cloud and gloom.'

3 Euphrosyne. Cheerfulness, one of the Graces.

• Quips, repartees.

5 Cranks, cross-purposes.

Hebe, the goddess of youth.

Q

And, if I give thee honour due,
Mirth, admit me of thy crew,

To live with her, and live with thee
In unreprovéd1 pleasures free;
To hear the lark begin his flight,
And singing startle the dull Night
From his watch-tower in the skies,
Till the dappled Dawn doth rise;
Then to come, in spite of sorrow,
And at my window bid good-morrow,
Through the sweetbriar, or the vine,
Or the twisted eglantine :2
While the cock, with lively din,
Scatters the rear of darkness thin,
And to the stack, or the barn-door,
Stoutly struts his dames before:
Oft listening how the hounds and horn
Cheerly rouse the slumbering morn,
From the side of some hoar hill,
Through the high wood echoing shrill.
Some time walking, not unseen,
By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green,
Right against the eastern gate
Where the great Sun begins his state,
Robed in flames and amber light,
The clouds in thousand liveries dight;
While the ploughman, near at hand,
Whistles o'er the furrowed land,
And the milkmaid singeth blithe,
And the mower whets his scythe,

And every shepherd tells his tale3

Under the hawthorn in the dale.

Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures, Whilst the landscape round it measures :

1 Unreproved, for unreprovable, innocent.
2 Twisted eglantine, the honeysuckle.

Tells his tale, counts his flock.

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