Is not a life a perpetual treat?

Can we be more than delighted and blest?

Pleasure is beautiful—is it the best?

Highest and best that our nature can know?

Answer my heart—and my heart answers No.

And my heart answers, 'more beautiful yet

Life is for those who leave Home with regret,

And greet it again as the sailor greets shore,

Gaily returning to life gone before.'

Thus from the banquet two lovers depart,

Owning thy truth, lovely voice of my heart;

[pg 45]

Seeking a home that, whatever befall,

Is brighter and sweeter and dearer than all;

Better than all that the world can decree,

For happy young creatures like Harry and me!

Self-ordained critics, we sit at our ease,

Life spread before us to judge as we please;

Harry in quite a ridiculous way

Prates about wine, like a swell in a play;

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