No poet wept him; but the page Of narrative sincere, That tells his name, his worth, his age, Is wet with Anson's tear: And tears by bards or heroes shed I therefore purpose not, or dream, To give the melancholy theme But misery still delights to trace When, snatch'd from all effectual aid, But I beneath a rougher sea, And whelm'd in deeper gulfs than he. W. Cowper CCVI TOMORROW In the downhill of life, when I find I'm declining, Than a snug elbow-chair will afford for reclining, 5 With an ambling pad-pony to pace o'er the lawn, While I carol away idle sorrow, 10 And blithe as the lark that each day hails the dawn Look forward with hope for Tomorrow. With a porch at my door, both for shelter and shade too, As the sunshine or rain may prevail; And a small spot of ground for the use of the spade too, With a barn for the use of the flail: A cow for my dairy, a dog for my game, And a purse when a friend wants to borrow; 15 I'll envy no Nabob his riches or fame, From the bleak northern blast may my cot be com pletely Secured by a neighboring hill; And at night may repose steal upon me more sweetly 5 And while peace and plenty I find at my board, 10 And when I at last must throw off this frail cov'ring Nor my thread wish to spin o'er again: But my face in the glass I'll serenely survey, And with smiles count each wrinkle and furrow; 15 As this old worn-out stuff, which is threadbare Today, May become Everlasting Tomorrow. J. Collins CCVII Life! I know not what thou art, 5 Life! we've been long together 10 Through pleasant and through cloudy weather; 'Tis hard to part when friends are dear— Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear; -Then steal away, give little warning, Choose thine own time; Say not Good Night,-but in some brighter clime Bid me Good Morning. A. L. Barbauld The Golden Treasury Book Fourth 5 CCVIII TO THE MUSES Whether on Ida's shady brow, Or in the chambers of the East, Where the melodious winds have birth; How have you left the ancient love CCIX ODE ON THE POETS Bards of Passion and of Mirth 10 10 -Yes, and those of heaven commune Browsed by none but Dian's fawns; Thus ye live on high, and then And the souls ye left behind you Of their passions and their spites; What doth strengthen and what maim:- Bards of Passion and of Mirth Double-lived in regions new! J. Keats CCX ON FIRST LOOKING INTO CHAPMAN'S HOMER Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold 5 Oft of one wide expanse had I been told Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: J. Keats 5 10 CCXI LOVE All thoughts, all passions, all delights, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I The moonshine stealing o'er the scene |