TO-MORROW In the downhill of life, when I find I'm declining, Than a snug elbow-chair will afford for reclining, With an ambling pad-pony to pace o'er the lawn, And blithe as the lark that each day hails the dawn 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; I'll envy no Nabob his riches or fame, Or what honours may wait him To-morrow. From the bleak northern blast may my cot be completely And at night may repose steal upon me more sweetly And while peace and plenty I find at my board, With my friends may I share what To-day may afford, And when I at last must throw off this frail cov'ring On the brink of the grave I'll not seek to keep hov'ring, But my face in the glass I'll serenely survey, And with smiles count each wrinkle and furrow; As this old worn-out stuff, which is threadbare To-day, May become Everlasting To-morrow. John Collins I WISH I WERE BY THAT DIM LAKE I wish I were by that dim Lake, Deceitful world, my home should be; The lifeless sky, the mournful sound Of unseen waters falling round; The dry leaves quiv'ring o'er my head, These, ay, these shall wean My soul from life's deluding scene, And turn each thought, o'ercharged with gloom, Like willows, downward tow'rds the tomb. As they, who to their couch at night Like freezing founts, where all that's thrown Thomas Moore LULLABY Golden slumbers kiss your eyes, Care is heavy, therefore sleep you, Rock them, rock a lullaby. Thomas Dekker HAVE YOU A DESIRE? Have you a desire to see The glorious Heaven's epitome? Or an abstract of the Spring? Adonis' garden? or a Thing Fuller of wonder? Nature's shop displayed, Hung with the choicest pieces she has made? Here behold it open laid. Or else would you bless your eyes With a type of Paradise? Or behold how poets feign Jove to sit amidst his train? Or see (what made Actæon rue) Peter Hausted TO NIGHT Swiftly walk over the western wave, Out of the misty eastern cave, Wrap thy form in a mantle gray, Blind with thine hair the eyes of Day When I arose and saw the dawn, When light rode high, and the dew was gone, Thy brother Death came, and cried, Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed, "Shall I nestle near thy side? 66 Death will come when thou art dead, Sleep will come when thou art fled; Percy Bysshe Shelley DREAM-PEDLARY If there were dreams to sell, That shakes from Life's fresh crown Only a rose-leaf down, If there were dreams to sell, Merry and sad to tell, And the crier rang the bell, Such pearl from Life's fresh crown Fain would I shake me down. Thomas Lovell Beddoes |