Think lightly o' the weddèn band.
True happiness do bide alwone

Wi' them that ha' their own he'th-stwone
To gather wi' their childern roun',

A-smilèn at the worold's frown.

My bwoys, that brought me thatch an' spars,
Wer down a-taïtèn on the bars,
Or zot a-cuttèn wi' a knife,
Dry eltot-roots to meäke a fife;
Or drevèn woone another round
The rick upon the grassy ground.
An', as the aïer vrom the west
Did fan my burnèn feäce and breast,
An' hoppen birds, wi' twitt'rèn beaks,
Did show their sheenèn spots and streaks,
Then, wi' my heart a-vill'd wi' love
An' thankvulness to God above,
I didden think ov anything
That I begrudg'd o' lord or king;

Vor I ha' round me, vur or near,
The mwost to love an' nwone to fear,
An' zoo can walk in any pleäce,
An' look the best man in the feäce.
What good do come o' eächèn heads,
Or lien down in silken beds?

Or what's a coach, if woone do pine
To zee woone's naïghbour's twice as fine?
Contentment is a constant feäst,

He's richest that do want the least,

BORROW

Simple Life

GIVE me the haunch of a buck to eat, and to

drink Madeira old,

And a gentle wife to rest with, and in my arms to fold,

An Arabic book to study, a Norfolk cob to ride, And a house to live in shaded with trees, and near to a river side;

With such good things around me, and blessed with good health withal,

Though I should live for a hundred years, for death I would not call.

There's the Wind on the Heath, Brother 'WHAT is your opinion of death, Mr. Petu

lengro?' said I, as I sat down beside him.

'My opinion of death, brother, is much the same as that in the old song of Pharaoh, which I have heard my grandam sing

"Cana marel o manus chivios andé puv,

Ta rovel pa leste o chavo ta romi."

When a man dies, he is cast into the earth, and his wife and child sorrow over him.

If he has

neither wife nor child, then his father and mother, I suppose; and if he is quite alone in the world, why, then, he is cast into the earth, and there is an end of the matter.'

'And do you think that is the end of a man?' 'There's an end of him, brother, more's the pity.'

'Why do you say so?'

'Life is sweet, brother.' 'Do you think so?'

'Think so! There's night and day, brother, both sweet things; sun, moon, and stars, brother, all sweet things; there's likewise a wind on the heath. Life is very sweet, brother; who would wish to die?'

'I would wish to die '—

'You talk like a gorgio-which is the same as talking like a fool. Were you a Rommany Chal you would talk wiser. Wish to die, indeed! A Rommany Chal would wish to live for ever!' 'In sickness, Jasper?'

'There's the sun and stars, brother.'

'In blindness, Jasper ?'

'There's the wind on the heath, brother; if I could only feel that, I would gladly live for ever. Dosta, we'll go now to the tents and put on the gloves; and I'll try to make you feel what a sweet thing it is to be alive, brother!'

PHILIP JAMES BAILEY

The Prayer of Festus

RANT us, O God! that in thy holy love

GRA

The universal people of the world

May grow more great and happy every day;
Mightier, wiser, humbler, too, towards Thee.
And that all ranks, all classes, callings, states
Of life, so far as such seem right to Thee,
May mingle into one, like sister trees,
And so in one stem flourish that all laws
And powers of government be based and used
In good, and for the people's sake :-that each
May feel himself of consequence to all,
And act as though all saw him; that the whole,
The mass of every nation may so do

As is most worthy of the next to God;
For a whole people's souls, each one worth more
Than a mere world of matter, make, combined,
A something godlike, something like to Thee.

Sorrow

AUBREY DE VERE

COUNT each affliction, whether light or grave,

God's messenger sent down to thee; do thou

With courtesy receive him; rise and bow;
And, ere his shadow pass thy threshold, crave

Permission first his heavenly feet to lave;
Then lay before him all thou hast; allow
No cloud of passion to usurp thy brow,
Or mar thy hospitality; no wave

Of mortal tumult to obliterate

The soul's marmoreal calmness: Grief should be, Like joy, majestic, equable, sedate ;

Confirming, cleansing, raising, making free; Strong to consume small troubles; to commend Great thoughts, grave thoughts, thoughts lasting to the end.

LORD HOUGHTON

The Men of Old

I

KNOW not that the men of old

Were better than men now,

Of heart more kind, of hand more bold,
Of more ingenuous brow:

I heed not those that pine for force
A ghost of time to raise,

As if they thus could check the course

Of these appointed days.

Still it is true, and over true,

That I delight to close

This book of life self-wise and new,

And let my thoughts repose

P