Ernest The Rule of Right. Second Edition [by Capel Lofft] |
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 | Ernest |  |
“My friend,” cried Linsingen,
Shouting above their jovial noisy talk;
“'Tis mirth is now the matter of our day,
And music is mirth's kin—but music self
In these wild hills would hardly know itself
If the harp were wanting. To the harpers, then,
'Tis but a short while round, and he—his worth
Hath earned us all, right well.” So said so done.
There lay the hovel in sight, and soon their speed
Had overrun that space. The greybeard sate
In his trim garden, glad of the sun's warmth,
Vital as to his flowers, so to him,
In his chill years. He heard their mirth afar,
Strangely, for mirth and he were strange long since,
And wondered what it meant; nor wondered long:
For Linsingen, forth spurring, in few words
Spake his kind wish, and the old man answered him.
Shouting above their jovial noisy talk;
“'Tis mirth is now the matter of our day,
And music is mirth's kin—but music self
In these wild hills would hardly know itself
92
'Tis but a short while round, and he—his worth
Hath earned us all, right well.” So said so done.
There lay the hovel in sight, and soon their speed
Had overrun that space. The greybeard sate
In his trim garden, glad of the sun's warmth,
Vital as to his flowers, so to him,
In his chill years. He heard their mirth afar,
Strangely, for mirth and he were strange long since,
And wondered what it meant; nor wondered long:
For Linsingen, forth spurring, in few words
Spake his kind wish, and the old man answered him.
| Ernest | |