Nor helpless age relieved from cares,
Nor innocence preserved from snares,

Nor homeless wanderer clothed and fed,
Nor slaves from bitter bondage led,
Nor youth to noble actions bred,
Shall call down blessings on my head.

I chose thee, Ease! and yet the while,
So sweet was beauty's scornful smile,
So fraught with every lovely wile,
Yet seemingly so void of guile,
It did but heighten all her charms;
And, Goddess, had I loved thee then
With but the common love of men,
My fickle heart had changed again
Even at the very moment when
I woo'd thee to my longing arms:
For never may I hope to meet
A smile so sweet, so heavenly sweet!

I chose thee, Ease! and now for me
No heart shall ever fondly swell,

No voice of soothing melody

Awake the music-breathing shell;

No tongue of rapturous harmony
Its love in faltering accents tell;
Nor flushing cheek, nor languid eye,
Nor sportive smile, nor artless sigh,
Confess affection all as well.
No snowy bosom's fall and rise,
Shall e'er again enchant my eyes;
No melting lips, profuse of bliss,
Shall ever greet me with a kiss;
Nor balmly breath pour in mine ear
The trifles love delights to hear;
But living, loveless, hopeless, I,
Unmournèd and unloved, must die.

I chose thee, Ease! and yet to me,
Coy and ungrateful thou hast proved,
Though I have sacrificed to thee

Much that was worthy to be loved.
But come again, and I will yet
Thy past ingratitude forget.

Oh, come again! Thy witching powers
Shall claim my solitary hours:

With thee to cheer me, heavenly queen,
And conscience clear, and health serene,
And friends and books to banish spleen,

I

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My life shall be as it has been,

A sweet variety of joys;

And glory's crown and beauty's smile,

And treasured hoards should seem the while The idlest of all human toys.

JAMES MATTHEWS LEGARÉ

TO A LILY

Go bow thy head in gentle spite,

Thou lily white,

For she who spies thee waving here,
With thee in beauty can compare

As day with night.

Soft are thy leaves and white: her arms
Boast whiter charms.

Thy stem prone bent with loveliness

Of maiden grace possesseth less:
Therein she charms.

Thou in thy lake dost see

Thyself: so she

Beholds her image in her eyes

Reflected. Thus did °Venus rise

From out the sea.

Inconsolate, bloom not again.

Thou rival vain

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Of her whose charms have thine outdone,
Whose purity might spot the sun,
And make thy leaf a stain.

AHAB MOHAMMED

A peasant stood before a king and said,

"My children starve, I come to thee for bread." On cushions soft and silken sat enthroned

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The king, and looked on him that prayed and moaned, Who cried again, "For bread I come to thee."

For grief, like wine, the tongue will render free.
Then said the prince with simple truth, "Behold
I sit on cushions silken-soft, of gold

And wrought with skill the vessels which they bring
To fitly grace the banquet of a king.

But at my gate the Mede triumphant beats,

And die for food my people in the streets.
Yet no good father hears his child complain
And gives him stones for bread, for alms disdain.
Come, thou and I will sup together-come."
The wondering courtiers saw

saw and were dumb:

Then followed with their eyes where Ahab led

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With grace the humble guest, amazed, to share his

bread.