Oh could I feel as I have felt, or be what I have been, Or weep as I could once have wept o'er many a vanished scene; As springs in deserts found seem sweet, all brackish though they be, So, midst the withered waste of life, those tears would flow to me. George Gordon Byron [1788–1824] "WHEN AS A LAD" WHEN, as a lad, at break of day My thoughts, like flocking birds, would follow And on and on Into the very heart of dawn! For long I searched the world! Ah me! So lovely and so far away! I seek them still and always will And I am free to follow, follow, For any save the soul's swift feet! "AROUND THE CHILD” AROUND the child bend all the three Walter Savage Landor [1775-1864] The Quest 343 ALADDIN WHEN I was a beggarly boy, Since then I have toiled day and night, THE QUEST It was a heavenly time of life My little ship through unknown seas Sometimes the rain came down and hid The shining shores of Spain, The beauty of the silver mists But through the rains and through the winds, Upon the untried sea, My fairy ship sailed on and on, With all my dreams and me. And now, no more a child, I long Rose up the shores of Spain. O lovely land of silver mists, I look for you with smiles, with tears, Ellen Mackey Hutchinson Cortissoz [18 MY BIRTH-DAY "My birth-day"-what a different sound How hard that chain will press at last. Vain was the man, and false as vain, Who said- were he ordained to run His long career of life again, He would do all that he had done." Ah, 'tis not thus the voice, that dwells Lavished unwisely, carelessly; Of counsel mocked; of talents, made Sonnet Of nursing many a wrong desire; Of wandering after Love too far, That crossed my pathway, for a star. The imperfect picture o'er again, The lights and shades, the joy and pain, Which hath been more than wealth to me; Where Love's true light at last I've found, Cheering within, when all grows dark, 345 Thomas Moore [1779-1852] SONNET ON HIS HAVING ARRIVED TO THE AGE OF TWENTY-THREE How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, It shall be still in strictest measure even To that same lot, however mean or high, Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heaven: All is, if I have grace to use it so, As ever in my great Task-master's eye. John Milton [1608-1674] ON THIS DAY I COMPLETE MY THIRTY-SIXTH YEAR 'Tis time this heart should be unmoved, Since others it hath ceased to move: My days are in the yellow leaf; The flowers and fruits of love are gone; The fire that on my bosom preys The hope, the fear, the jealous care, But 'tis not thus-and 'tis not here— Such thoughts should shake my soul, nor now, Or binds his brow. The sword, the banner, and the field, Awake! (not Greece-she is awake!) Tread those reviving passions down, |