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AND DID THOSE FEET IN ANCIENT TIME

79

ODE

How sleep the brave, who sink to rest
By all their country's wishes blest!
When Spring, with dewy fingers cold,
Returns to deck their hallow'd mould,
She there shall dress a sweeter sod
Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.

By fairy hands their knell is rung;
By forms unseen their dirge is sung;
There Honour comes, a pilgrim gray,
To bless the turf that wraps their clay;
And Freedom shall awhile repair
To dwell, a weeping hermit, there!

WILLIAM COLLINS

AND DID THOSE FEET IN ANCIENT

TIME

AND did those feet in ancient time

Walk upon England's mountain green?
And was the holy Lamb of God

On England's pleasant pastures seen?

And did the countenance divine

Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here

Among these dark Satanic mills?

[graphic]

Bring me my bow of burning gold!

Bring me my arrows of desire! Bring me my spear: O clouds, unfold!

Bring me my chariot of fire!

I will not cease from mental fight,

Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand, Till we have built Jerusalem In England's green and pleasant land.

WILLIAM BLAKE

HE THAT LOVES A ROSY CHEEK

He a

at loves a rosy cheek
Or a coral lip admires,
Or from star-like eyes doth seek

Fuel to maintain his fires;
As old Time makes these decay,
So his flames must waste away.

But a smooth and steadfast mind,

Gentle thoughts, and calm desires,
Hearts with equal love combined,

Kindle never-dying fires: -
Where these are not, I despise
Lovely cheeks or lips or eyes.

THOMAS CAREW TIME, YOU OLD GIPSY MAN

81

TIME, YOU OLD GIPSY MAN

TIME, you old gipsy man,

Will you not stay,
Put up your caravan

Just for one day?

All things I'll give you
Will you be my guest,
Bells for your jennet
Of silver the best,
Goldsmiths shall beat you
A great golden ring,
Peacocks shall bow to you,
Little boys sing,
Oh, and sweet girls will
Festoon you with may.
Time, you old gipsy,
Why hasten away?

Last week in Babylon,
Last night in Rome,
Morning, and in the crush
Under Paul's dome;
Under Paul's dial
You tighten your rein -
Only a moment,
And off once again;
Off to some city
Now blind in the womb,
Off to another
Ere that's in the tomb.

Time, you old gipsy man,

Will you not stay,
Put up your caravan
Just for one day?

RALPH HODGSON

MÆSIA'S SONG

SWEET are the thoughts that savour of content;

The quiet mind is richer than a crown; Sweet are the nights in careless slumber spent;

The poor estate scorns fortune's angry frown: Such sweet content, such minds, such sleep, such

bliss, Beggars enjoy, when princes oft do miss.

The homely house that harbours quiet rest;

The cottage that affords no pride nor care;
The mean that 'grees with country music best;

The sweet consort of mirth and modest fare;.
Obscured life sets down a type of bliss:
A mind content both crown and kingdom is

ROBERT GREENE

WHAT PLEASURE HAVE GREAT PRINCES

What pleasure have great princes

More dainty to their choice
Than herdsmen wild, who careless

In quiet life rejoice,

WHAT PLEASURE HAVE GREAT PRINCES

83

And fortune's fate not fearing
Sing sweet in summer morning?

Their dealings plain and rightful,

Are void of all deceit;
They never know how spiteful

It is to kneel and wait
On favourite presumptuous
Whose pride is vain and sumptuous.

All day their flocks each tendeth;

At night they take their rest;
More quiet than who sendeth

His ship into the East,
Where gold and pearl are plenty;
But getting, very dainty.

For lawyers and their pleading,

They 'steem it not a straw;
They think that honest meaning

Is of itself a law:
Whence conscience judgeth plainly,
They spend no money vainly.

O happy who thus liveth!

Not caring much for gold;
With clothing which sufficeth

To keep him from the cold.
Though poor and plain his diet,
Yet merry it is, and quiet.

ANONYMOUS

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