THE AGE OF WISDOM.

[1846.]

I.

Ho, pretty page, with the dimpled chin,
That never has known the barber's fhear,

All your wish is woman to win,

This is the way that boys begin,—
Wait till you come to Forty Year.

II.

Curly gold locks cover foolish brains,
Billing and cooing is all your cheer;
Sighing and finging of midnight ftrains,
Under Bonnybell's window-panes,-
Wait till you come to Forty Year !

III.

Forty times over let Michaelmas pass,
Grizzling hair the brain doth clear-
Then you know a boy is an ass,
Then you know the worth of a lass,

Once you have come to Forty Year.

IV.

Pledge me round, I bid

ye

declare,

All good fellows whose beards are gray, Did not the fairest of the fair

Common grow and wearisome ere

Ever a month was past away?

The reddeft lips that ever have kissed,
The brightest eyes that ever have shone,
May pray and whisper, and we not lift,
Or look away, and never be missed,
Ere yet ever a month is gone.

VI.

Gillian's dead, GOD reft her bier;
How I loved her twenty years syne!
Marian's married, but I fit here
Alone and merry at Forty Year,

Dipping my nose in the Gascon wine.

WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY.

SONG.

[1846.]

O, THAT we two were Maying

Down the stream of the soft Spring breeze;
Like children with violets playing

In the fhade of the whispering trees.

O, that we two sat dreaming

On the sward of some sheep-trimmed down,
Watching the white mist fleaming

Over river and mead and town.

O, that we two lay fleeping

In our neft in the churchyard sod,

With our limbs at reft on the quiet Earth's breast, And our souls at home with GOD!

CHARLES KINGSLEY.

SONG.

[1856]

THE world goes up, and the world goes down,
And the sunshine follows the rain:
And yesterday's sneer and yesterday's frown
Can never come over again,
Sweet wife,

No, never come over again.

For woman is warm though man be cold,
And the night will hallow the day;

Till the heart which at even was weary and old,
Can rise in the morning gay,

Sweet wife,

To its work in the morning gay.

CHARLES KINGSLEY.

[1848?]

THY voice is heard through rolling drums,
That beat to battle where he stands;

Thy face across his fancy comes,
And gives the battle to his hands:
A moment, while the trumpets blow,
He sees his brood about thy knee;
The next, like fire he meets the foe,

And ftrikes him dead for thine and thee.

ALFRED TENNYSON.

[1848?]

As through the land at eve we went,
And plucked the ripened ears,

We fell out, my wife and I,
O we fell out, I know not why,
And kiffed again with tears.

For when we came where lies the child
We loft in other years,

There above the little grave,

O there above the little grave,

We kiffed again with tears.

ALFRED TENNYSON.

[1848?]

SWEET and low, sweet and low,
Wind of the western sea,
Low, low, breathe and blow,
Wind of the western sea!
Over the rolling waters go,

Come from the dying moon, and blow,
Blow him again to me:

While my little one, while my pretty one, fleeps.

Sleep and rest, fleep and rest,

Father will come to thee soon;

Reft, reft, on mother's breast,

Father will come to thee soon;

Father will come to his babe in the nest,
Silver sails ail out of the west

Under the filver moon:

Sleep, my little one, fleep, my pretty one, fleep.

[1850?]

ALFRED TENNYSON.

COME not when I am dead,

To drop thy foolish tears upon my grave,

To trample round my fallen head,

And vex the unhappy duft thou wouldst not save.
There let the wind sweep, and the plover cry,
But thou, go by.

Child, if it were thine error or thy crime,
I care no longer, being all unbleft:

Wed whom thou wilt, but I am fick of Time,
And I defire to rest.

Pass on, weak heart, and leave me where I lie:

Go by, go by.

ALFRED TENNYSON.

THE SENTENCES.

[1856.]

THAIS, my heart's no match for thine:
Waste not thy warmth on me; but go
Seek out some chillier spirit; mine

Afks not another fire, but snow.