I murmur under moon and stars And out again I curve and flow For men may come, and men may go, VI A. Tennyson STARS They glide upon their endless way, Mark the Daughters of the Night: They follow in the track of Day, Shine on, sweet orbed Souls for aye, For ever calm, for ever bright: We ask not whither lies your way, Nor whence ye came, nor what your light. Be-still a dream throughout the day, A blessing through the night. B. Cornwall VII THE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE Come live with me and be my Love, There will we sit upon the rocks There will I make thee beds of roses A gown made of the finest wool, A belt of straw and ivy buds, Thy silver dishes for thy meat Prepared each day for thee and me. The shepherd swains shall dance and sing If these delights thy mind may move, C. Marlowe VIII THE KITTEN AND FALLING LEAVES See the Kitten on the wall, Withered leaves-one-two-and three From the lofty elder tree! Through the calm and frosty air In his wavering parachute. Crouches, stretches, paws, and darts! With a tiger-leap half-way Now she meets the coming prey, Has it in her power again : Now she works with three or four, Far beyond in joy of heart. Were her antics played in the eye For the plaudits of the crowd? Over happy to be proud, Over wealthy in the treasure Of her own exceeding pleasure! W. Wordsworth IX THE FERRYMAN, VENUS, AND CUPID As I a fare had lately past, Which as I was about to bring, And came to view my fraught, Thought I, what more than heavenly thing Hath fortune hither brought? She, seeing mine eyes still on her were, Soon, smilingly, quoth she, Sirrah, look to your rudder there, Why look'st thou thus at me? And nimbly stepp'd into my boat Naked and blind, yet did I note And two wings to his shoulders fixt, With far more various colours mixt Or it transform'd hath been, For such a thing, half bird, half boy, I think was never seen. And in my boat I turn'd about, And wistly view'd the lad, And clearly I saw his eyes were out, Why, well, quoth I, the better should, How say'st thou, honest friend, quoth she, I think, in time, though blind he be, A ferryman he'll make. To guide my passage-boat, quoth I, His fine hands were not made; |