After the flitting of the bats, When thickest dark did trance the sky, She said, "I am aweary, aweary, Upon the middle of the night, Waking, she heard the night-fowl crow; The cock sung out an hour ere light; From the dark fen the oxen's low Came to her; without hope of change, In sleep she seem'd to walk forlorn, Till cold winds woke the gray-eyed morn About the lonely, moated grange. She only said, "The day is dreary, He cometh not," she said; About a stone-cast from the wall A sluice with blacken'd waters slept, All silver-green with gnarled bark; MARIANA. She only said, "My life is dreary, She said, "I am aweary, aweary, And ever when the moon was low, And the shrill winds were up and away, In the white curtain, to and fro, She saw the gusty shadow sway. And wild winds bound within their cell, Upon her bed, across her brow. She only said, "The night is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" All day within the dreamy house, The doors upon their hinges creak'd ; The blue-fly sung in the pane; the mouse Behind the mouldering wainscot shriek'd Or from the crevice peer'd about. Old faces glimmer'd thro' the doors, 3 The sparrows' chirrup on the roof, The poplar made, did all confound TENNYSON. PATRIOTISM. BREATHES there the man with soul so dead, This is my own, my native land! Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd, From wandering on a foreign strand. AGE AND YOUTH. Living, shall forfeit fair renown, Unwept, unhonour'd, and unsung. SCOTT. 5 AGE AND YOUTH. "You are old, Father William," the young man cried, "The few locks that are left you are gray; You are hale, Father William, a hearty old man : "In the days of my youth," Father William replied, "I remember'd that youth would fly fast, And abused not my health and my vigour at first, "You are old, Father William," the young man cried, "And pleasures with youth pass away, And yet you lament not the days that are gone : "In the days of my youth," Father William replied, "I remember'd that youth could not last; I thought of the future, whatever I did, "You are old, Father William," the young man cried, “And life must be hastening away; You are cheerful, and love to converse upon death: Now tell me the reason, I pray?" "I am cheerful, young man," Father William replied, "Let the cause thy attention engage, In the days of my youth I remember'd my God, SOUTHEY. THE WATERFOWL. WHITHER, midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far through their hazy depths dost thou pursue Thy solitary way. Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, Thy figure floats along. Seek'st thou the plashy brink Of reedy lake, or marge of river wide, |