LXXXI.

They, too, supplied some cans of country beer

For the lab'ring men, and half-a-crown apiece

For them to have some downright merry cheer;

The question was—where did their bounty cease?

So fast their acts of kindness did increase,

So welcome were they to the neighb'ring poor

To whom their homely smile was joy and peace,

And to whose cottages they often bore

Some small addition to their little cupboard store.

LXXXII.

I picture, as I write, the little scene:

The dwelling clustered o'er with roses white,

The parlour with its ruby bricks so clean,

And all within so happy and so bright.

I would exchange my being, if I might,

With him whose life-long day is so serene,

Whose eve knows no lament, whose morn no blight,

Whose every hour is tranquil in between,

Whose hopes are ever fair, whose joys are ever green.[29]

 Prev. P 45/167 next