 | Love's Last Labour Not Lost |  |
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RECOLLECTIONS OF CHARLES LAMB.
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[“In my quiet garden-room]
“In my quiet garden-room
Where I pass my pensive hours,
And enjoy the sweet perfume
Wafted by my fragrant flow'rs,
Pensioners from every spray,
Me their morning visits pay.
Where I pass my pensive hours,
And enjoy the sweet perfume
Wafted by my fragrant flow'rs,
Pensioners from every spray,
Me their morning visits pay.
Timidly aloof they stand,
Till grown tamer, they at last,
Perching upon my open'd hand,
Partake, with songs, of my repast—
'Tis then I learn from every bough
How cheap, O Happiness! art thou.
Till grown tamer, they at last,
Perching upon my open'd hand,
Partake, with songs, of my repast—
'Tis then I learn from every bough
How cheap, O Happiness! art thou.
And as this feast (too young to fly),
Their unfledged nestlings cannot share,
They to their leafy homes on high
A little part rejoicing bear;
Then this parental duty done,
Again they soaring, seek the sun.
Their unfledged nestlings cannot share,
They to their leafy homes on high
A little part rejoicing bear;
Then this parental duty done,
Again they soaring, seek the sun.
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When winter chills the parting year,
And falls the snow, and roars the wind,
My truants daily disappear;
The Robin only stays behind,
And does his best to make amends,
Till spring returns, for absent friends.
And falls the snow, and roars the wind,
My truants daily disappear;
The Robin only stays behind,
And does his best to make amends,
Till spring returns, for absent friends.
Will they return with spring? How few!—
By driving storm, and leafless tree,
By bitter frost, and damp night-dew,
Full many a voice shall silenced be;
And he who spreads their feast to-day
May too, ere spring, have pass'd away.”
By driving storm, and leafless tree,
By bitter frost, and damp night-dew,
Full many a voice shall silenced be;
And he who spreads their feast to-day
May too, ere spring, have pass'd away.”
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[“Bricks and mortar! bricks and mortar!]
“Bricks and mortar! bricks and mortar!
Cut your rambles rather shorter,
Give green fields a little quarter!
Cut your rambles rather shorter,
Give green fields a little quarter!
You, in your suburban sallies,
Turn our pleasant fields and valleys
Into squalid courts and alleys.
Turn our pleasant fields and valleys
Into squalid courts and alleys.
All along our rural passes
Where tripp'd village lads and lasses
Not a single blade of grass is!
Where tripp'd village lads and lasses
Not a single blade of grass is!
Where I saw the daisies springing,
Where I heard the blackbird singing,
And the lark while heavenward winging,
Where I heard the blackbird singing,
And the lark while heavenward winging,
I behold a rookery frightful
Which with tatters (tenants rightful!)
Beggary fills from morn to night full.
Which with tatters (tenants rightful!)
Beggary fills from morn to night full.
And beside their neighbour wizen
For rogues I see a palace risen,
And for poverty a prison!
For rogues I see a palace risen,
And for poverty a prison!
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Bricks and mortar! bricks and mortar!
Give green fields a little quarter;
As sworn foes to nature's beauty
You've already done your duty!”
Give green fields a little quarter;
As sworn foes to nature's beauty
You've already done your duty!”
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[“He fell asleep. He sank to rest]
“He fell asleep. He sank to rest
Serenely on his Saviour's breast;
His Master's work, like David's, done;
His crown, like David's, nobly won!
Serenely on his Saviour's breast;
His Master's work, like David's, done;
His crown, like David's, nobly won!
He fell asleep. To death resign'd,
No anxious wish he left behind,
But that his friends some happy day
Might pass, like him, in peace away.
No anxious wish he left behind,
But that his friends some happy day
Might pass, like him, in peace away.
He fell asleep. He finds repose
In that green, silent spot he chose,
And many a pensive pilgrim there,
In fond remembrance, breathes a prayer.”
In that green, silent spot he chose,
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In fond remembrance, breathes a prayer.”
| Love's Last Labour Not Lost | |