That loved me, and alone; on shore, and when
Thro' scudding drifts the rainy Hyadesd
Vext the dim sea: I am become a name;
For always roaming with a hungry heart
Much have I seen and known; cities of menta
And manners, climates, councils, governments,
Myself not least, but honour'd of them all;
And drunk delight of battle with my peers,
Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy.
I am a part of all that I have met;

Yet all experience is an arch wherethro' tood
Gleams that untravell'd world, whose margin
died fades

For ever and for ever when I move.

How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use!
As tho' to breathe were life. Life piled on
life and ass Dub

Were all too little, and of one to me

Little remains: but every hour is saved
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things; and vile it were
For some three suns to store and hoard myself,
And this gray spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.
This is my son, mine own Telemachus,
Lo whom I leave the sceptre and the isle
Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfil
This labour, by slow prudence to make mild
A rugged people, and thro' soft degrees out
Subdue them to the useful and the good.on
Most blameless is he, centred in the sphere
Of common duties, decent not to fail

Ulysses

In offices of tenderness, and pay
Meet adoration to my household gods,
When I am gone. He works his work, I mine.
There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail
There gloom the dark broad seas. My mariners,
Souls that have toil'd, and wrought, and thought yela
with me-

That ever with a frolic welcome took

The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed
Free hearts, free foreheads-you and I are old:
Old age hath yet his honour and his toil;
Death closes all: but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs :
the deep

:

Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,

'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.

Push off, and, sitting well in order, smite welÃ
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths and
Of all the western stars, until I die.

It

may be that the gulfs will wash us down: It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, q And see the great Achilles, whom we knew. Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho' We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;

One equal temper of heroic hearts,

Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

L

Locksley COMRADES, leave me here a little, while as yet

Hall

'tis early morn:

Leave me here, and when you want me, sound
Dupon the bugle horn.

"Tis the place, and round the gables, as of old,
the curlews call, e sind la saolo fins C
Dreary gleams about the moorland flying over
Locksley Hall; mom primosodno toM

dieff oldu?wa et aigud andgil sd'T Locksley Hall, that in the distance overlooks the sandy tracts,

And the hollow ocean-ridges

cataracts.

qoob adi roaring into

bhow rows & Ares of sul not ton af T Many a night from yonder ivied casement, ere went to rest, fot aworul gaibanoa 5'1 Did I look on great Orion sloping slowly to the West.

Hhy die oft sett od yam ik
Many a night I saw the Pleiads, rising thro' the
mellow shade, ullirib on
998 bn A.
Glitter like a swarm of fire-flies tangled in a
avab silver braid. lignete ondt wou Jos sus s77
915 57 do ELLW

Here about the beach I wander'd, nourishing
a youth sublime toted to request loups ont
With the fairy tales of science, and the long
result of Time;
of evils old

fruitful Locksley

When the centuries behind me like at
land reposed;edgie to moss nobl
When I clung to all the present for the promise
that it closed:

When I dipt into the future far as human eye
could see;

Saw the Vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be. I sub osvel wed

In the Spring a fuller crimson comes upon the robin's breast; ; abned

In the Spring the wanton lapwing gets himself

another crest;

In the Spring a livelier iris changes on the burnish'd dove; stw abroda

In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of lovelie to me then al

Then her cheek was pale and thinner than should be for one so young,

And her eyes on all my motions with a mute observance hung.

And I said, 'My cousin Amy, speak, and speak the truth to me,

Trust me, cousin, all the current of

sets to thee.'

my being

On her pallid cheek and forehead came a colour

and a light,

As I have seen the rosy red flushing in the northern night.

Hall

Hall

Locksley And she turn'd-her bosomshaken with Wa sudden storm of sighs- boloqar bari All the spirit deeply dawning in the dark of hazel eyes—

Saying, I have hid my feelings, fearing they should do me wrong;

Saying, Dost thou love me, cousin?' weeping, 'I have loved thee long. blow indi

Love took up the glass of Time, and turn'd it in his glowing hands; asid Saidou Every moment, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden sands.

Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might; bla

Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, pass'd in music out of sight.ol to adquors on

Many a morning on the moorland did we hear the copses ring,

And her whisper throng'd my pulses with the
fulness of the Spring.

Many an evening by the waters did we watch
the stately ships,
And our spirits rush'd together at the touching
of the lips.

O my cousin, shallow-hearted! O my Amy,

mine no more!

O the dreary, dreary moorland! O the barren,

barren shore !