Aw'm as rich as a Jew, tho aw havn't a meg,
But awm free as a burd, an aw shak a loise leg;
Aw've noa haase, an noa barns, soa aw nivver pay rent,
But still aw feel rich, for awm bless'd wi content,
Aw live, an awm jolly,
An if it is folly,
Let others be wise, but aw'l follow mi bent.

Mi kitchen aw find amang th' rocks up oth moor,
An at neet under th' edge ov a haystack aw snoor,
An a wide spreeadin branch keeps th' cold rain off mi nop,
Wol aw listen to th' stormcock at pipes up oth top;
Aw live, an awm jolly, &c.

Aw nivver fear thieves, for aw've nowt they can tak,
Unless it's thease tatters at hing o' mi back;
An if they prig them, they'll get suck'd do yo see,
They'll be noa use to them, for they're little to me.
Aw live, an awm jolly, &am...

Oh! hide those tempting eyes, that faultless form,
Those looks with feeling and with nature warm;
The neck, the softly-swelling bosom hide,
Nor, wanton gales, blow the light vest aside;
For who, when beauties more than life excite
Silent applause, can gaze without delight!
But innocence, enchanting maid, is thine;
Thine eyes in liquid light unconscious shine;
And may thy breast no other feelings prove,
Than those of sympathy and mutual love!

Fair was the dawn, and but e'en now the skies
Show'd like to cream inspir'd with strawberries,
But on a sudden all was chang'd and gone
That smil'd in that first sweet complexion.
Then thunder-claps and lightning did conspire
To tear the world, or set it all on fire.
What trust to things below, whenas we see,
As men, the heavens have their hypocrisy?

    I am not true, but you would pardon this
    If you could see the tortured spirit take
    Its place beside you in the dark, and break
    Your daily food of love and kindliness.
    You'd guess the bitter thing that treachery is,
    Furtive and on its guard, asleep, awake,
    Fearing to sin, yet fearing to forsake,
    And daily giving Christ the Judas kiss.

    But piteous amends I make each day
    To recompense the evil with the good;
    With double pang I play the double part
    Of all you trust and all that I betray.
    What long atonement makes my penitent blood,
    To what sad tryst goes my unfaithful heart!

South and far south below the Line,
Our Admiral leads us on,
Above, undreamed-of planets shine,
The stars we know are gone.
Around, our clustered seamen mark
The silent deep ablaze
With fires, through which the far-down shark
Shoots glimmering on his ways.

The sultry tropic breezes fail
That plagued us all day through;
Like molten silver hangs our sail,
Our decks are dark with dew.
Now the rank moon commands the sky.
Ho! Bid the watch beware
And rouse all sleeping men that lie
Unsheltered in her glare.

How long the time 'twixt bell and bell!
How still our lanthorns burn!
How strange our whispered words that tell
Of England and return!
Old towns, old streets, old friends, old loves,
We name them each to each,
While the ...

Just as I shape the purport of my thought,
Lord of the Universe, shape Thou my lot.
Let each ill thought that in my heart may be,
Mould circumstance and bring ill luck to me.

Until I weed the garden of my mind
From all that is unworthy and unkind,
Am I not master of my mind, dear Lord?
Then as I THINK, so must be my reward.

Who sows in weakness, cannot reap in strength,
That which we plant, we gather in at length.
Great God of Justice, be Thou just to me,
And as my thoughts, so let my future be.

Shine soft, ye trembling tears of light
That strew the mourning skies;
Hushed in the silent dews of night
The harp of Erin lies.

What though her thousand years have past
Of poets, saints, and kings, -
Her echoes only hear the last
That swept those golden strings.

Fling o'er his mound, ye star-lit bowers,
The balmiest wreaths ye wear,
Whose breath has lent your earth-born flowers
Heaven's own ambrosial air.

Breathe, bird of night, thy softest tone,
By shadowy grove and rill;
Thy song will soothe us while we own
That his was sweeter still.

Stay, pitying Time, thy foot for him
Who gave thee swifter wings,
Nor let thine envious shadow dim
The light his glory flings.

If in his cheek unholy blood
Burned for one ...

Sir Knight of the world's oldest order,
    Sir Knight of the Army of God,
You have crossed the strange mystical border,
    The ground-floor of truth you have trod;
You stand on the typical threshold
    Which leads to the temple above;
Where you come as a stone, and a Christ-chosen one,
    In the Kingdom of Friendship and Love.

As you stand in this new realm of beauty,
    Where each man you meet is your friend,
Think not that your promise of duty
    In hall, or asylum, shall end.
Outside, in the great world of pleasure.
    Beyond in the clamour of trade,
In the battle of life and its coarse daily strife,
    Remember the vows you have made.

Your service, majestic and solemn,
    Your symbols, suggestive and sweet,
Your uniform phala...

When Ruth was left half desolate,
Her Father took another Mate;
And Ruth, not seven years old,
A slighted child, at her own will
Went wandering over dale and hill,
In thoughtless freedom, bold.

And she had made a pipe of straw,
And music from that pipe could draw
Like sounds of winds and floods;
Had built a bower upon the green,
As if she from her birth had been
An infant of the woods.

Beneath her father's roof, alone
She seemed to live; her thoughts her own;
Herself her own delight;
Pleased with herself, nor sad, nor gay;
And, passing thus the live-long day,
She grew to woman's height.

There came a Youth from Georgia's shore
A military casque he wore,
With splendid feathers drest;
He brought them from the Cherokees;<...

From the first circle I descended thus
Down to the second, which, a lesser space
Embracing, so much more of grief contains
Provoking bitter moans.    There, Minos stands
Grinning with ghastly feature: he, of all
Who enter, strict examining the crimes,

Gives sentence, and dismisses them beneath,
According as he foldeth him around:
For when before him comes th' ill fated soul,
It all confesses; and that judge severe
Of sins, considering what place in hell
Suits the transgression, with his tail so oft
Himself encircles, as degrees beneath
He dooms it to descend.    Before him stand
Always a num'rous throng; and in his turn
Each one to judgment passing, speaks, and hears
His fate, thence downward to his dwelling hurl'd.

"O thou! who to this reside...

NO city I to Rheims would e'er prefer:
Of France the pride and honour I aver;
The Holy Ampoule * and delicious wine,
Which ev'ry one regards as most divine,
We'll set apart, and other objects take:
The beauties round a paradise might make!
I mean not tow'rs nor churches, gates, nor streets;
But charming belles with soft enchanting sweets:
Such oft among the fair Rhemese we view:
Kings might be proud those graces to pursue.

ONE 'mong these belles had to the altar led,
A painter, much esteemed, and who had bread.
What more was requisite! - he lived at ease,
And by his occupation sought to please.
A happy woman all believed his wife;
The husband's talents pleased her to the life:
For gallantry howe'er he was renowned,
And many am'rous dames, who dwelle...

Should these songs, love, as they fleet,

Chance again to reach thy hand,
At the piano take thy seat,

Where thy friend was wont to stand!

Sweep with finger bold the string,

Then the book one moment see:
But read not! do nought but sing!

And each page thine own will be!

Ah, what grief the song imparts

With its letters, black on white,
That, when breath'd by thee, our hearts

Now can break and now delight!

Two men, well versed in use of arms,
Set out, 'tis said, in search of game.
Each felt that hunting had its charms,
Yet widely differed they in aim.
Both felt their need of wholesome food
For present use and winter's store;
But one was of a careless mood--
Than the day's sport he asked no more.

No game he bagged from morn till night,
Content to show his master skill
In hitting every bird at sight,
And shooting down the deer at will.
Grand sport he deemed it, day by day,
As in the tangled forest brake
He brought the bounding stag to bay,
Or shot the wood-duck in the lake.

As he each night to home returned
He sang the pleasure of the chase;
But had not yet the lesson learned
That he was loser in the race.
Yet, when sat in the winte...

Since there is excitement
In suffering for a woman,
Let him burn on.
The dust in a wolf's eyes
Is balm of flowers to the wolf
When a flock of sheep has raised it.

From the Arabic.

It wor Kursmiss day, - we wor ready for fun,
Th' puddin wor boil'd an th' rooast beef wor done;
Th' ale wor i'th' cellar, an th' spice-cake i'th' bin,
An th' cheese wor just lively enuff to walk in.
Th' lads wor all donned i' ther hallidy clooas,
An th' lasses, - they each luckt as sweet as a rooas;
An th' old wife an me, set at each end o'th' hob,
An th' foir wor splutterin raand a big cob,
An aw sed, "Nah, old lass,
Tho we havn't mich brass,
We shall celebrate Kursmiss to-day."

Th' young fowk couldn't rest, they kept lukkin at th' clock,
Yo'd a thowt 'twor a wick sin they'd had any jock,
But we winkt one at tother as mich as to say,
They mun wait for th' reight time, for ther mother has th' kay.
Then they all went to th' weshus at stood just aghtside,
...

Be not thou silent now at length
O God hold not thy peace,
Sit not thou still O God of strength
We cry and do not cease.
For lo thy furious foes now *1swell
And *1storm outrageously,
And they that hate thee proud and fill
Exalt their heads full hie.
Against thy people they *2contrive
*3Their Plots and Counsels deep,
*4Them to ensnare they chiefly strive
*5Whom thou dost hide and keep.
Come let us cut them off say they,
Till they no Nation be
That Israels name for ever may
Be lost in memory.
For they consult *6with all their might,
And all as one in mind
Themselves against thee they unite
And in firm union bind.
The tents of Edom, and the brood
Of scornful Ishm...

When Youth's warm heart beats high, my friend,
    And Youth's blue sky is bright,
And shines in Youth's clear eye, my friend,
    Love's early dawning light,
Let the free soul spurn care's control,
    And while the glad days shine,
We'll use their beams for Youth's gay dreams
    Of Love and Song and Wine.

Let not the bigot's frown, my friend,
    O'ercast thy brow with gloom,
For Autumn's sober brown, my friend,
    Shall follow Summer's bloom.
Let smiles and sighs and loving eyes
    In changeful beauty shine,
And shed their beams on Youth's gay dreams
    Of Love and Song and Wine.

For in the weary years, my friend,
    That stretched before us lie,
There'll be enough of tears, my friend,
    To dim the brightest eye.
So le...

    Between the folding sea-downs,
    In the gloom
    Of a wailful wintry nightfall,
    When the boom
Of the ocean, like a hammering in a hollow tomb,

    Throbbed up the copse-clothed valley
    From the shore
    To the chamber where I darkled,
    Sunk and sore
With gray ponderings why my Loved one had not come before

    To salute me in the dwelling
    That of late
    I had hired to waste a while in -
    Vague of date,
Quaint, and remote wherein I now expectant sate;

    On the solitude, unsignalled,
    Broke a man
    Who, in air as if at home there,
    Seemed to scan
Every fire-flecked nook of the apartment span by span.

    A stranger's and no lover's
    Eyes were these,
    Eyes of a man wh...