Volume I Part 77 (1/2)

STANZAS FOR MUSIC

There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away, When the glow of early thought declines in feeling's dull decay; 'Tis not on youth's smooth cheek the blush alone, which fades so fast, But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere youth itself be past.

Then the few whose spirits float above the wreck of happiness Are driven o'er the shoals of guilt or ocean of excess: The magnet of their course is gone, or only points in vain The sh.o.r.e to which their s.h.i.+vered sail shall never stretch again.

Then the mortal coldness of the soul like death itself comes down; It cannot feel for others' woes, it dare not dream its own; That heavy chill has frozen o'er the fountain of our tears, And though the eye may sparkle still, 'tis where the ice appears.

Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth distract the breast, Through midnight hours that yield no more their former hope of rest; 'Tis but as ivy-leaves around the ruined turret wreathe, All green and wildly fresh without, but worn and gray beneath.

Oh could I feel as I have felt,--or be what I have been, Or weep as I could once have wept o'er many a vanished scene; As springs in deserts found seem sweet, all brackish though they be, So, midst the withered waste of life, those tears would flow to me.

George Gordon Byron [1788-1824]

”WHEN AS A LAD”

When, as a lad, at break of day I watched the fishers sail away, My thoughts, like flocking birds, would follow Across the curving sky's blue hollow, And on and on- Into the very heart of dawn!

For long I searched the world! Ah me!

I searched the sky, I searched the sea, With much of useless grief and rueing, Those winged thoughts of mine pursuing-- So dear were they, So lovely and so far away!

I seek them still and always will Until my laggard heart is still, And I am free to follow, follow, Across the curving sky's blue hollow, Those thoughts too fleet For any save the soul's swift feet!

Isabel Ecclestone Mackay [1875-

”AROUND THE CHILD”

Around the child bend all the three Sweet Graces--Faith, Hope, Charity.

Around the man bend other faces Pride, Envy, Malice, are his Graces.

Walter Savage Landor [1775-1864]

ALADDIN

When I was a beggarly boy, And lived in a cellar damp, I had not a friend nor a toy, But I had Aladdin's lamp; When I could not sleep for the cold, I had fire enough in my brain, And builded, with roofs of gold, My beautiful castles in Spain!

Since then I have toiled day and night, I have money and power good store, But I'd give all my lamps of silver bright For the one that is mine no more.

Take, Fortune, whatever you choose; You gave, and may s.n.a.t.c.h again; I have nothing 'twould pain me to lose, For I own no more castles in Spain!

James Russell Lowell [1819-1891]

THE QUEST