O be, or not to be,-that is the question: "Like cliffs which had been rent asunder; A dreary sea now flows between." But never either found another To free the hollow heart from paining, They stood aloof, the scars remaining, Like cliffs which had been rent asunder; O here hath been dawning Another blue day; Think wilt thou let it Slip useless away. Out of Eternity This new Day is born; Into Eternity At night will return. Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, No more; and, by a sleep, to say we end To sleep! perchance to dream;-ay, there's the rub, That makes calamity of so long life: For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought; TO-DAY. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. Behold it aforetime No eye ever did; So soon it forever From all eyes is hid. Here hath been dawning Another blue day; Think wilt thou let it Slip useless away. THOMAS CARLYLE. In that village on the hill Never is sound of smithy or mill; The houses are thatched with grass and flowers, The marble doors are always shut; In that village under the hill, THE BLIND BOY. SAY, what is that thing called light, You talk of wondrous things you see, You say the sun shines bright; I feel him warm, but how can he Or make it day or night? My day or night myself I make, With heavy sighs I often hear Then let not what I cannot have THE OLD FAMILIAR FACES. HAVE had playmates, I have had companions, In my days of childhood, in my joyful schooldays; All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. I have been laughing, I have been carousing, I loved a love once, fairest among women; I have a friend, a kinder friend has no man; COLLEY CIBBER. Ghost-like I paced round the haunts of my child hood: Earth seemed a desert I was bound to traverse, Seeking to find the old familiar faces. Friend of my bosom, thou more than a brother, Why wert not thou born in my father's dwelling? So might we talk of the old familiar faces, How some they have died, and some they have left me, And some are taken from me: all are departed; All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. CHARLES LAMB |