Ring out a slowly-dying cause, And ancient forms of party strife; Ring in the nobler modes of life, With sweeter manners, purer laws. Ring out the want, the care, the sin, The faithless coldness of the times; Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes, But ring the fuller minstrel in. Ring out false pride in place and blood, Ring out old shapes of foul disease, Ring out the narrowing lust of gold; Ring out the thousand wars of old, Ring in the thousand years of peace. Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand; Ring out the darkness of the land, Ring in the Christ that is to be. TENNYSON. Lycius, the Cretan prince of race divine, Like many a royal youth, was fond of wine. So, when his father died, and left him king, He spent his days and nights in reveling. Show him a wine-cup, he would soon lay down The noble cares that make a monarch great. Among his seeming friends, but secret foes, He sat and drained the wine-cup; when there came A gray-haired man, who called him by his name,— "Lycius!" It was his tutor, Philocles, Who held him when a child upon his knees. Lycius," the old man said, "it suits not you "Philocles," The prince replied, "what idle words are these? I hold the living better than the dead. 1 roses... crown. Among the ancients it was the custom to crown with a garland of roses those sharing in a wine-banquet. 2 urn, in allusion to the ancient custom of inclosing the cremated ashes of the dead in a funeral urn. My father reigned, and died: I live and reign. Bound up their wounds, and honored their old scars? "Lycius," he said once more, "the state demands "Good Philocles," the shaméd prince replied, "Hear, then, the gods, who speak to-day through me The sad but certain words of prophecy: 'Touch not the cup: small sins in kings are great; Be wise in time, nor further tempt your fate."" (6 Old man, there is no fate, save that which lies And, willing goodness, shall not goodness be The wise man shook his head. 66 Remember what the oracles have said: 'What most he loves who rules this Cretan land, Shall perish by the wine-cup in his hand.'" "Prophet of ill! no more, or you shall die. His courtiers laughed. But now a woman's shriek Rose terrible without, and blanched his cheek. STODDARD. |