I think that Dives flaunting his riches in the sunshine,
May owe his gold to his fathers, not a penny to himself.
And that all things taken together, men are but busy spiders;
That Fate the busier housewife leaves on, or sweeps off the shelf.
And I neither laugh nor sigh at the rights or wrongs I witness;
I take the world as it comes, and would mend it, if I might.
But as I cannot, I may not; and so go home to my pillow,
And wrap myself in the blankets, and wish the world good night!
WE merry three
Old fogies be;
And every age bears blessings free, Though we're old fogies-fogies three.
The crow's-foot crawls, the wrinkle When happy skylarks soar and sing,
To welcome back the tardy spring,
And daisies peep and roses blow,
Give, oh give me, Clos Vougeot !
When summers breathe the promise free
Of bounteous vines and grapes to be,
And autumns pay what summers owe,
Give, oh give me, Clos Vougeot!
When ice-bound streams in darkness
And Nature dreams in wintry sleep,
And Norland tempests whirl the snow,
Give, oh give me, Clos Vougeot !
When friends are shy because I'm poor,
And hint they knew my ruin sure,
And half the world becomes my foe,
Give, oh give me, Clos Vougeot!
When wealth comes flooding to my hand,
And boon companions understand,
That round my board the wine-cups flow,
Give, oh give me, Clos Vougeot!
When I am hale, and fresh, and strong,
And Time runs merry as my song,
To keep the fire at healthful glow,
Give, oh give me, Clos Vougeot !
When grief and care my senses clutch,
And Fancy flies at Sorrow's touch;
And life's machine runs dull and slow,
Give, oh give me, Clos Vougeot!
'What shall I do to be for ever known,
And make the age to come mine own?'
COWLEY.
WHAT thou shalt do to be for ever known?
Poet or statesman-look with steadfast gaze,
And see yon giant Shadow 'mid the haze,
Far off, but coming. Listen to the moan
That sinks and swells in fitful under-tone,
And lend it words, and give the shadow form ;-
And see the Light, now pale and dimly shown,
That yet shall beam resplendent after storm.
Preach thou their coming, if thy soul aspire
To be the foremost in the ranks of fame ;-
;-
Prepare the way, with hand that will not tire,
And tongue unfaltering, and o'er earth proclaim
The Shadow, the ROUSED MULTITUDE;—the Cry,
'JUSTICE FOR ALL !'-the Light, TRUE LIBERTY.
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