198 'Twas partly Love and partly Fear, I calmed her fears, and she was calm, SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. A PETITION TO TIME. Let us glide adown the stream Touch us gently, Time! We've not proud nor soaring wings; Our ambition, our content, Lies in simple things. BRYAN W. PROCTER. (Barry Cornwall.) THE POET'S SONG TO HIS WIFE. OW many summers, love, Hast thou been mine? To count the hours! Some weight of thought, though loth, On thee he leaves; Some lines of care round both Perhaps he weaves; Some fears; a soft regret For joys scarce known; Sweet looks we half forget; All else is flown! the long, sleepless watches of the night, Looks at me from the wall, where round its head The night lamp casts a halo of pale light. Here in this room she died, and soul more white Never through martyrdom of fire was led And seasons, changeless since the day she died. HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. |