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Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the milky way,

They stretch'd in never ending line
Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Outdid the sparkling waves in glee -

A poet could not but be gay

In such a jocund company!

I gazed and gazed, but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought.

For oft, when on my couch I lie,
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.

PROUD MAISIE

PROUD Maisie is in the wood,

Walking so early;

Sweet Robin sits on the bush

Singing so rarely.

"Tell me, thou bonny bird, When shall I marry me?" "When six braw1 gentlemen

Kirkward 2 shall carry ye.

"Who makes the bridal bed, Birdie, say truly?"

"The gray-headed sexton

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That delves the grave duly.

"The glow-worm o'er grave and stone

Shall light thee steady;
The owl from the steeple sing

Welcome, proud lady."

SIR WALTER SCOTT.

1 braw: fine.

2 kirkward: to the church.

ABOU BEN ADHEM

ABOU BEN ADHEM (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich and like a lily in bloom,
An angel writing in a book of gold.

Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold;

And to the presence in the room he said,

"What writest thou?" The vision raised its head, And, with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord."

"And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so,"
Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,

But cheerily still; and said, "I pray thee, then,
Write me as one that loves his fellow men."

The angel wrote and vanished. The next night

It came again, with a great wakening light,

And showed the names whom love of God had blessed; And, lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest.

LEIGH HUNT.

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WHEN I was a beggarly boy,
And lived in a cellar damp,
I had not a friend nor a toy,
But I had Aladdin's lamp.

When I could not sleep for the cold,
I had fire enough in my brain,
And builded with roofs of gold,
My beautiful castles in Spain !

Since then I have toiled day and night,
I have money and power good store,
But I'd give all my lamps of silver bright
For the one that is mine no more.

Take, Fortune, whatever you choose,
You gave and may snatch again;
I have nothing 'twould pain me to lose,
For I own no more castles in Spain !

JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.

THE LEGEND OF BISHOP HATTO

THE summer and autumn had been so wet,
That in winter the corn was growing yet:
'Twas a piteous sight to see, all around,
The grain lie rotting on the ground.

Every day the starving poor

Crowded round Bishop Hatto's door;
For he had a plentiful last-year's store,
And all the neighborhood could tell
His granaries were furnished well.

At last Bishop Hatto appointed a day
To quiet the poor without delay:
He bade them to his great barn repair,
And they should have food for winter there.

Rejoiced such tidings good to hear,

The poor folk flocked from far and near;
The great barn was full as it could hold
Of women and children, young and old.

Then, when he saw it could hold no more,
Bishop Hatto, he made fast the door;
And while for mercy on Christ they call,

He set fire to the barn and burned them all.

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