And, Matthew, for thy children dead
I'll be a son to thee!"

At this he grasp'd my hand, and said,
"Alas! that cannot be.'

We rose up from the fountain-side;
And down the smooth descent
Of the green sheep-track did we glide;
And through the wood we went;
And, ere we come to Leonard's rock,
He sang those witty rhymes
About the crazy old church clock,
And the bewildered chimes.

THE LONGEST DAY.

BY WORDSWORTH.

LET us quit the leafy arbour,
And the torrent murmuring by;
For the sun is in his harbour,
Weary of the open sky.

Evening now unbinds the fetters
Fashion'd by the glowing light;
All that breathe are thankful debtors
To the harbinger of night.

Yet by some grave thoughts attended
Eve renews her calm career;

For the day that now is ended
Is the longest of the year!

Summer ebbs; each day that follows
Is a reflux from on high,
Tending to the darksome hollows
Where the frosts of winter lie.

He who governs the creation
In his providence, assigned
Such a gradual declination

To the life of human kind.

Yet we mark it not; fruits redden,

Fresh flowers blow, as flowers have blown, And the heart is loth to deaden

Hopes that she so long hath known.

Be thou wiser, youthful maiden!
And, when thy decline shall come,
Let not flowers, or bough fruit-laden,
Hide the knowledge of thy doom.

Now, e'en now, ere wrapp'd in slumber,
Fix thine eyes upon the sea

That absorbs time, space, and number,-
Look thou to eternity!

FRIENDSHIP.

By WORDSWORTH.

SMALL service is true service while it lasts,
Of friends, however humble, scorn not one,
The daisy, by the shadow that it casts,
Protects the lingering dewdrop from the sun.

THE ROSE.

BY COWPER.

THE rose had been wash'd, just wash'd in a shower,
Which Mary to Anna convey'd,

The plentiful moisture encumber'd the flower,
And weigh'd down its beautiful head.

The cup was all fill'd, and the leaves were all wet,

And it seem'd, to a fanciful view,

To weep for the buds it had left with regret
On the flourishing bush where it grew.

I hastily seized it, unfit as it was

For a nosegay, so dripping and drown'd,
And swinging it rudely, too rudely, alas!
I snapp'd it-it fell to the ground.

And such, I exclaim'd, is the pitiless part
Some act by the delicate mind,
Regardless of wringing and breaking a heart
Already to sorrow resign'd.

This elegant rose, had I shaken it less,
Might have bloom'd with its owner awhile;
And the tear that is wiped with a little address,
May be follow'd perhaps by a smile.

THE POPLAR FIELD.
BY COWPER.

THE poplars are felled, farewell to the shade,
And the whispering sound of the cool colonnade;
The winds play no longer and sing in the leaves,
Nor Ouse on his bosom their image receives.

Twelve years have elapsed since I last took a view
Of my favourite field and the bank where they grew;
And now in the grass behold they are laid,

And the tree is my seat that once lent me a shade.

The blackbird has fled to another retreat,
Where the hazels afford him a screen from the heat,
And the scene where his melody charmed me before,
Resounds with his sweet-flowing ditty no more.

My fugitive years are all hastening away,
And I must ere long lie as lowly as they,
With a turf on my breast, and a stone at my head,
Ere another such grove shall arise in its stead.

'Tis a sight to engage me if anything can,
To muse on the perishing pleasures of man;
Though his life be a dream, his enjoyments I see
Have a being less durable even than he.

THE

DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN;

SHOWING HOW HE WENT FARTHER THAN HE INTENDED, AND CAME SAFE HOME AGAIN.

BY COWPER.

JOHN GILPIN was a citizen
Of credit and renown,

A train-band captain eke was he
Of famous London town.

John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear,

66

Though wedded we have been

These twice ten tedious years, yet we
No holiday have seen.

"To-morrow is our wedding-day,
And we will then repair
Unto the Bell at Edmonton
All in a chaise and pair.

"My sister, and my sister's child,
Myself and children three,

Will fill the chaise; so you must ride
On horseback after we."

He soon replied, "I do admire

Of womankind but one,
And you are she my dearest dear,
Therefore it shall be done.

"I am a linendraper bold

As all the world doth know,
And my good friend the calender
Will lend his horse to go."

Quoth Mrs. Gilpin, "That's well said,
And for that wine is dear,
We will be furnished with our own,
Which is both bright and clear."

John Gilpin kiss'd his loving wife;
O'erjoyed was he to find,

That though on pleasure she was bent,
She had a frugal mind.

The morning came, the chaise was brought,
But yet was not allowed

To drive up to the door, lest all

Should say that she was proud.

So three doors off the chaise was stayed,
Where they did all get in;

Six precious souls, and all agog

To dash through thick and thin.

Smack went the whip, round went the wheels,

Were never folks so glad;

The stones did rattle underneath,

As if Cheapside were mad.