SONG.

WERE mine the songs Anacreon sung,
Were mine Catullus' burning pen,
Or Dante's dreams, or Petrarch's tongue:
How, dearest, would I sing thee then!
Nor Lesbia's lips, nor Laura's eyes,
Nor Beatrice's gaze divine,

Not one sweet charm the world should prize
More than it prized those charms of thine.

Oh, love, for Goethe's matchless grace!
Oh, love, for Byron's words of flame!
Then thine by Lili's fame I'd place;

With Athens' maid's should live thy name.
Oh could I sing such songs as sprung

From Burns's heart-Béranger's brain, With Jean and Liz shouldst thou be sung While songs upon men's lips remain.

How weak am I thy charms to paint!
How poor the colours words supply!

Even as I use them, wan and faint,

I see thy beauty from them die.

Love laughs, and mocks, and shrills: "Why try "To paint the charms thy words but blur?

"Thou hast herself; in vain, ah! why

"Waste time to win a dream of her!"

A moment some sweet eyes

Have fill'd our hearts with burning hopes,

Our future with sad sighs.

Why ?" would reason know?

What must each reply?

"Fate has will'd it so;

"Not I, in truth, not I."

Thou Grief-thou Care, be dumb!

Doth not my lady come!

Ope―ope, ye dreaming blooms!
Ye vernal stars, appear!

All charmed airs be near !

Rise-rise, ye faint perfumes!

Thou Grief- thou Care, be dumb!

Doth not my lady come!

59

THE CRY OF THE LAWFUL LANTERNS.

HUMBLY DEDICATED TO THE OPPONENTS OF NATIONAL EDUCATION.

A PEOPLE dwelt in darkness,

In gloom and blinding night,
Till some grew tired of candles
And dared to long for light,
When straight the establish'd lanterns
Were stirr'd with hate of day,
And loud the lawful rushlights
In wrath were heard to say,
O have you not your lanterns,
Your little shining lanterns!

What need have you of sunshine?
What do you want with day?

Then loud the people murmur'd
And vow'd it wasn't right,
For men who could get daylight
To grope about in night;

Why should they lose the gladness,
The pleasant sights of day?
But still the establish'd lanterns
Continued all to say,

O have you not your lanterns,

Your nice old glimmering lanterns!
What need have you of sunshine?

What do you want with day?

THE CRY OF THE LAWFUL LANTERNS.

But people loathed the darkness,

And dared at last to say,
You old establish'd rushlights
Are good things in your way;
But are you, candles, sunlight?
You, lanterns, are you day?
Then loud the lawful lanterns
Did answer make and say,
O be content with lanterns,

Your good old-fashion'd lanterns!
You really want too much light;
Don't ask again for day!

61

At last the crowd's deep murmur
Grew gathering to a roar,
And that they would have daylight,
In lanterns' spite, they swore;

And fear was on all rushlights,

And trembling and dismay;

Alas, alas for lanterns!

The people heard them say;

O woe

O woe for lanterns!

What will become of lanterns!

Alack, they will have sunshine!

Alas, there will be day!

And as the tempest thicken'd,
Aloud they shriek'd in fright,

O once let in the sunshine,

And what will be our light!