The Solitary, and other poems With The Cavalier, a play. By Charles Whitehead |
 |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
 | The Solitary, and other poems |  |
So he goes home, gay to the view,
Stung in the brain and bosom, too.
And “where is Kirke?”
Stung in the brain and bosom, too.
And “where is Kirke?”
“O, Sir! is 't you?
I was in thought”—
121
“In tears, my boy!
Tears have two sources, grief and joy.
Thou supp'st with me to-night, good friend:
An hour or two of mirth to mend
The past, and with the future blend.
Is it not well?”
Tears have two sources, grief and joy.
Thou supp'st with me to-night, good friend:
An hour or two of mirth to mend
The past, and with the future blend.
Is it not well?”
“Ay, Sir, 'tis best:
Well match'd, the giver and the guest.”
Jasper was gone, whom he address'd.
“What a brave wretch,” quoth Kirke, “is this!
I would I had that heart of his!”
Well match'd, the giver and the guest.”
Jasper was gone, whom he address'd.
“What a brave wretch,” quoth Kirke, “is this!
I would I had that heart of his!”
| The Solitary, and other poems | |