Fair Science frowned not on his humble birth, He gave to misery (all he had) a tear, He gained from Heaven ('t was all he wished) a friend. No farther seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode; (There they alike in trembling hope repose), The bosom of his Father and his God. THOMAS GRAY. LUCY SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways A maid whom there were none to praise A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye! Fair as a star, when only one She lived unknown, and few could know But she is in her grave, and Oh, The difference to me! I travelled among unknown men 'Tis past, that melancholy dream; Among thy mountains did I feel The joy of my desire; And she I cherished turned her wheel Beside an English fire. Thy mornings showed, thy nights concealed, And thine too is the last green field That Lucy's eyes surveyed. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. THREE YEARS SHE GREW THREE years she grew in sun and shower; She shall be mine, and I will make "Myself will to my darling be In earth and heaven, in glade and bower, To kindle or restrain. "She shall be sportive as the fawn "The floating clouds their state shall lend Nor shall she fail to see E'en in the motions of the storm Grace that shall mould the maiden's form By silent sympathy. "The stars of midnight shall be dear To her; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place, Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face. "And vital feelings of delight Shall rear her form to stately height, Her virgin bosom swell; Such thoughts to Lucy I will give, While she and I together live Here in this happy dell." Thus Nature spake. The work was done How soon my Lucy's race was run! She died, and left to me This heath, this calm and quiet scene; The memory of what has been, And never more will be. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. THE OLD FAMILIAR FACES I HAVE had playmates, I have had companions, I have been laughing, I have been carousing, I loved a love once, fairest among women ; I have a friend, a kinder friend has no man ; Ghost-like I paced round the haunts of my childhood; Friend of my bosom, thou more than a brother, How some they have died, and some they have left me, CHARLES LAMB. UNDER THE DAISIES I HAVE just been learning the lesson of life, And all of its power for pleasure and pain And all that is left of the bright, bright dream, With its thousand brilliant phases, Is a handful of dust in a coffin hid A coffin under the daisies; The beautiful, beautiful daisies, And thus forever throughout the world There's many a sad, sad thing in life, Life often divides far wider than death; The beautiful, beautiful daisies, And so I am glad that we lived as we did, The snowy, snowy daisies. HATTIE TYNG GRISWOLD. LUCY'S FLITTIN' 'T WAS when the wan leaf frae the birk tree was fa'in', She gaed by the stable where Jamie was stan'in', She heard the craw sayin' 't, high on the tree sittin', Oh, what is 't that pits my puir heart in a flutter? Then what gars me wish ony better to be? Wi' the rest o' my claes I ha'e row'd up the ribbon, Though now he said naething but Fare-ye-weel, Lucy! The lamb likes the gowan wi' dew when its droukit; WILLIAM LAIDLAW. WE ARE SEVEN A SIMPLE child, That lightly draws its breath, I met a little cottage girl: She was eight years old, she said; She had a rustic, woodland air, Her eyes were fair, and very fair; "Sisters and brothers, little maid, How many may you be ?" 66 How many ? Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me. "And where are they? I pray you She answered, "Seven are we; And two of us at Conway dwell, And two are gone to sea. "Two of us in the churchyard lie, tell.' |