10 FATHER WILLIAM. An annual guest in other lands, Sweet bird! thy bower is ever green, Oh, could I fly, I'd fly with thee! LOGAN. FATHER WILLIAM. You are old, Father William," the young man cried, "The few locks which are left you are grey; You are hale, Father William, a hearty old man ; Now tell me the reason, I pray." "In the days of my youth," Father William replied, "I remembered that youth would fly fast, And abused not my health and my vigour at first, That I never might need them at last." "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 ; Now tell me the reason, I pray." LLEWELLYN AND HIS DOG. "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, That I never might grieve for the past." "You are old, Father William," the young man “And life must be hastening away; [cried, You are cheerful, and love to converse upon death; Now tell me the reason, I pray." "I am cheerful, young man," Father William re"Let the cause thy attention engage; [plied, In the days of my youth I remember'd my God, And He hath not forgotten my age." LLEWELLYN AND HIS DOG. THE spearman heard the bugle sound, And still he blew a louder blast, Oh, where does faithful Gelert roam, 11 So true, so brave-a lamb at home, SOUTHEY. 1 A species of dog which hunts by scent. 12 LLEWELLYN AND HIS DOG. That day Llewellyn little loved Unpleas'd Llewellyn homeward hied, But when he gain'd the castle-door, Llewellyn gazed with wild surprise, Onward in haste Llewellyn pass'd, (And on went Gelert too), Fresh blood-gouts shock'd his view! O'erturned his infant's bed he found, He call'd his child-no voice replied; LLEWELLYN AND HIS DOG. "Hell-hound! by thee my child's devour'd!" The frantic father cried; And to the hilt his vengeful sword His suppliant, as to earth he fell, Aroused by Gelert's dying yell, Some slumberer waken'd nigh: Nor scratch had he, nor harm, nor dread : Lay a great wolf, all torn and dead- Ah, what was then Llewellyn's pain! Vain, vain was all Llewellyn's woe: 13 14 INCIDENT OF A And now a gallant tomb they raise, Here never could the spearman pass, Here oft the tear-besprinkled grass And here he hung his horn and spear; In fancy's piercing sounds would hear SPENCER. INCIDENT CHARACTERISTIC OF A FAVOURITE DOG. On his morning rounds the master Four dogs, each pair of different breed, Distinguished two for scent, and two for speed. See, a hare before them started : |