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SONGS FOR BOYHOOD. |
157 |
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Oh for the lessons learned by heart! Ay, though the very birch's smart
Should mark those hours again. I'd "kiss the rod," and be resigned Beneath the stroke, and even find
Some sugar in the cane!
The " Arabian Nights" rehearsed in bed! The fairy tales in school-time read,
By stealth, 'twixt verb and noun! The angel form that always walked In all my dreams, and looked, and talked
Exactly like Miss Brown!
The omne lene�Christmas come! The prize of merit won for home�
Merit had prizes then! But now I write for days and days For fame�a deal of empty praise,
Without the silver pen!
Then home, sweet home! the crowded coach, The joyous shout, the loud approach,
The winding horns like rams'! The meeting sweet that made me thrill, The sweetmeats, almost sweeter still,
No "satis" to the "jams!"
When that I was a tiny boy,
My days and uights were full of joy,
My mates were blithe and kind! No wonder that I sometimes sigh, And dash the tear-drop from my eye,
To cast a look behind! |
O love, they die in yon rich sky,
They faint on hill or field or river: Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow forever and forever. Blow, bugle, blow; set the wild echoes flying; And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying. |
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TO D. MACLISE, R.A. Bakry Cornwall.
On ! from honor unto honor; let not praise nor
pelf allure! Onward, upward, be thy course, and let thy foot
be firm and sure.
There is Raphael still before thee; Titian, Michael,
Rembraudt, all. Now for a vigorous effort; knit thy sinews, and
thou shalt not fall.
In thy land is Hogarth's glory, side by side with
Reynolds' fame : Much to spur thee, naught to daunt thee. Dare!
and thou shalt do the same.
Ou the earth are lands untrodden ; somewhere un�derneath the sun
Azure heights yet unascended, palmy countries to be won.
In the heart's diviner regions there are thoughts
that stir the soul, Till it shoots the bounds of darkness, past where
stars and planets roll.
In the cottage as the palace, in the clown as in
the king, Infiuite, endless passions reign, and with them
change and conduct bring:
Love, whose strength doth vanquish sorrow; Free�dom, wealthy with his crust;
Truth the servant; Faith the martyr; Hope, that soareth from the dust.
Life, in all its sunny aspects, all the moods of vice
and pain, Lie before thee. Oh, be certain nothing need be
sought in vain! |
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BUGLE-SONG FROM "THE PRINCESS." Alfred Tennyson.
The splendor falls on castle walls,
And snowy summits old in story; The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow; set the wild echoes flying; Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
Oh, hark! oh, hear! how thin and clear,
And thinner, clearer, farther going! Oh, sweit and far from cliff and scar The "lorns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow, le' us hear the purple glens replying; Blow, bugle" answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. |
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