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"Yet stay, fair lady, rest awhile
Beneath this cloister wall;
The cold wind through the hawthorn blows, And drizzly rain doth fall."
"O, stay me not, thou holy friar,
No drizzly rain that falls on me
"Yet stay, fair lady, turn again,
"Here, forced by grief and hopeless love, These holy weeds I sought,
And here, amid these lonely walls,
To end my days I thought.
for my year of
Is not yet passed away,—
Might I still hope to win thy love,
No longer would I stay."
"Now farewell grief, and welcome joy
For since I've found thee, lovely youth,
TO THE MEMORY OF ISABEL SOUTHEY
SONNET ON HIS BLINDNESS. Milton.
WHEN I consider how my light is spent
TO THE MEMORY OF ISABEL SOUTHEY. — Mrs. Southey.
'Tis ever thus, - 't is ever thus, when Hope hath built a bower
Like that of Eden, wreathed about with every thornless flower,
To dwell therein securely, the self-deceiver's trust, A whirlwind from the desert comes, and "all is in the dust."
'Tis ever thus,
-'t is ever thus, that, when the poor
With all its finest tendrils, with all its flexile rings,
That goodly thing it cleaveth to, so fondly and so fast, Is struck to earth by lightning, or shattered by the blast.
't is ever thus, with beams of mor
With looks too bright and beautiful for such a worl 1
One moment round about us their angel lightnings
Then down the veil of darkness drops, and all hath passed away.
'T is ever thus,
-'t is ever thus, with sounds toc
sweet for earth,
Seraphic sounds, that float away (borne heavenward) in their birth;
The golden shell is broken, the silver chord is mute, The sweet bells all are silent, and hushed the lovely
"T is ever thus, — 't is ever thus, with all that 's best below,
The dearest, noblest, loveliest, are always first to go; The bird that sings the sweetest, the pine that crowns the rock,
The glory of the garden, the flower of the flock.
'T is ever thus,
't is ever thus, with creatures heavenly fair,
Too finely framed to 'bide the brunt more earthly creatures bear;
A little while they dwell with us, blest ministers of
Then spread the wings we had not seen, and seek their home above.
EMPLOYMENT.- George Herbert.
IF, as a flower doth spread and die,
The sweetness and the praise were thine; But the extension and the room, Which in thy garland I should fill, were mine At thy great doom.
For as thou dost impart thy grace,
The measure of our joys is in this place,
Let me not languish, then, and spend
All things are busy; only I
Neither bring honey with the bees, Nor flowers to make that, nor the husbandry To water these.
I am no link of thy great chain,
THE ISLES OF GREECE. - Byron.
THE isles of Greece! the isles of Greece !
The Scian and the Teian Muse,
The mountains look on Marathon,
I dreamed that Greece might still be free; For, standing on the Persians' grave, I could not deem myself a slave.
A king sat on the rocky brow
Which looks o'er sea-born Salamis ; And ships, by thousands, lay below, And men in nations;
all were his!
He counted them at break of day,
And where are they? and where art thou,