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My hair is gray and my sight nigh gone;
My sword it rusteth upon the wall;
Right have I spoken, and right have I done:
When shall I rest me once for all?

O blessed rest! O royal night!
Wherefore seemeth the time so long
Till I see yon stars in their fullest light,
And list to their loudest song?

TO A VERY OLD WOMAN.

LA MOTTE FOUQUÉ.

"Und Du gingst einst, die Myrt' im Haare."

AND thou wert once a maiden fair,

A blushing virgin, warm and young, With myrtles wreathed in golden hair, And glossy brow that knew no care Upon a bridegroom's arm you hung.

The golden locks are silvered now,

The blushing cheek is pale and wan;

The spring may bloom, the autumn glow,

All's one

- in chimney corner thou

Sitt'st shivering on.

A moment

and thou sink'st to rest!

To wake, perhaps an angel blest,

In the bright presence of thy Lord.

O, weary is life's path to all!

Hard is the strife, and light the fall,

But wondrous the reward!

IMITATION OF HORACE.

TO HIS SERVING BOY.

Persicos odi,

Puer, apparatus;

Displicent nexæ

Philyrâ coronæ :

Mitte sectari

Rosa quo locorum

Sera moretur.

Simplici myrto

Nihil allabores

Sedulus cura :

Neque te ministrum

Dedecet myrtus,

Neque me sub arctâ

Vite bibentem.

AD MINISTRAM.

DEAR Lucy, you know what my wish is,
I hate all your Frenchified fuss:
Your silly entrées and made dishes
Were never intended for us.

No footman in lace and in ruffles

Need dangle behind my arm chair; And never mind seeking for truffles, Although they be ever so rare.

But a plain leg of mutton, my Lucy,
I prithee get ready at three;
Have it smoking, and tender, and juicy,
And what better meat can there be?
And when it has feasted the master,

"Twill amply suffice for the maid; Meanwhile I will smoke my canaster, And tipple my ale in the shade.

10

AN OLD FRIEND WITH A NEW FACE.*

THE KNIGHTLY GUERDON.

UNTRUE to my Ulric I never could be,

I vow by the saints and the blessed Marie.
Since the desolate hour when we stood by the shore,
And your dark galley waited to carry you o'er,

*WAPPING OLD STAIRS.

"Your Molly has never been false, she declares,
Since the last time we parted at Wapping Old Stairs;
When I said that I would continue the same,
And gave you the 'bacca-box marked with my name.
When I passed a fortnight between decks with you,
Did I e'er give a kiss, Tom, to one of your crew?
To be useful and kind to my Thomas, I staid,
For his trowsers I washed, and his grog too I made.

"Though you promised last Sunday to walk in the Mall With Susan from Deptford and likewise with Sall,

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