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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1892 edition. Excerpt: ... XLVI. "LT EART not so heavy as mine, Wending late home, As it passed my window Whistled itself a tune,--A careless snatch, a ballad, A ditty of the street; Yet to my irritated ear A... More

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1892 edition. Excerpt: ... XLVI. "LT EART not so heavy as mine, Wending late home, As it passed my window Whistled itself a tune,--A careless snatch, a ballad, A ditty of the street; Yet to my irritated ear An anodyne so sweet, It was as if a bobolink, Sauntering this way, Carolled and mused and carolled, Then bubbled slow away. It was as if a chirping brook Upon a toilsome way Set bleeding feet to minuets Without the knowing why. To-morrow, night will come again, Weary, perhaps, and sore. Ah, bugle, by my window, I pray you stroll once more! XL VII. T MANY times thought peace had come, When peace was far away; As wrecked men deem they sight the land At centre of the sea, And struggle slacker, but to prove, As hopelessly as I, How many the fictitious shores Before the harbor lie. UNTO my books so good to turn Far ends of tired days; It half endears the abstinence, And pain is missed in praise. As flavors cheer retarded guests With banquetings to be, So spices stimulate the time Till my small library. It may be wilderness without, Far feet of failing men, But holiday excludes the night, And it is bells within. I thank these kinsmen of the shelf; Their countenances bland Enamour in prospective, And satisfy, obtained. XLIX. ""PHIS merit hath the worst,--It cannot be again. When Fate hath taunted last And thrown her furthest stone, The maimed may pause and breathe, And glance securely round. The deer invites no longer Than it eludes the hound. L. HUNGER. T HAD been hungry all the years;.-My noon had come, to dine; I, trembling, drew the table near, And touched the curious wine. 'Twas this on tables I had seen, When turning, hungry, lone, I looked in windows, for the wealth I could not hope to own. I did not know the ample bread, 'T was so unlike the crumb The birds and I had...

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