Laughed the brook for my delight Through the day and through the night, Talked with me from fall to fall; Still as my horizon grew, Oh, for festal dainties spread, Cheerly, then, my little man, Live and laugh, as boyhood can! 1855. Though the flinty slopes be hard, Shall the cool wind kiss the heat: Quick and treacherous sands of sin. John Greenleaf Whittier. 90 100 ULYSSES Ir little profits that an idle king, By this still hearth, among these barren crags, That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me. Life to the lees: all times I have enjoy'd Greatly, have suffer'd greatly, both with those For ever and for ever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, 10 20 |