Why not reform? That's easily said; But I've gone through such wretched treatment,

Sometimes forgetting the taste of bread, And scarce remembering what meat meant,

That my poor stomach's past reform;
And there are times when, mad with
thinking,

I'd sell out heaven for something warm
To prop a horrible inward sinking.

Is there a way to forget to think?

At your age, Sir, home, fortune, friends, A dear girl's love, but I took to drink, The same old story; you know how it

ends.

If you could have seen these classic features,

You need n't laugh, Sir; they were not

then

Such a burning libel on God's creatures: I was one of your handsome men !

If

you had seen her, so fair and young, Whose head was happy on this breast! If you could have heard the songs I sung When the wine went round, you would n't have guessed

That ever I, Sir, should be straying
From door to door, with fiddle and dog,
Ragged and penniless, and playing
To you to-night for a glass of grog!

She's married since, a parson's wife:
'T was better for her that we should
part,

Better the soberest, prosiest life

Than a blasted home and a broken heart.

Through all the long midsummer-day
The meadow-sides are sweet with hay.
I seek the coolest sheltered seat,

Just where the field and forest meet, -
Where grow the pine-tree's tall and bland,
The ancient oaks austere and grand,
And fringy roots and pebbles fret
The ripples of the rivulet.

I watch the mowers, as they go
Through the tall grass, a white-sleeved

row.

With even stroke their scythes they swing,
In tune their merry whetstones ring.
Behind the nimble youngsters run,
And toss the thick swaths in the sun.

The cattle graze, while, warm and still,
Slopes the broad pasture, basks the hill,
And bright, where summer breezes break,
The green wheat crinkles like a lake.

The butterfly and humblebee
Come to the pleasant woods with me;

Quickly before me runs the quail,
Her chickens skulk behind the rail;
High up the lone wood-pigeon sits,
And the woodpecker pecks and flits.
Sweet woodland music sinks and swells,
The brooklet rings its tinkling bells,
The swarming insects drone and hum,
The partridge beats its throbbing drum.
The squirrel leaps among the boughs,
And chatters in his leafy house.
The oriole flashes by; and, look!
Into the mirror of the brook,

Where the vain bluebird trims his coat,
Two tiny feathers fall and float.

As silently, as tenderly,

The down of peace descends on me.
O, this is peace! I have no need
Of friend to talk, of book to read:
A dear Companion here abides;
Close to my thrilling heart He hides;
The holy silence is His Voice:
I lie and listen, and rejoice.

THE WORD OF GOD TO LEYDEN CAME

THE word of God to Leyden came,
Dutch town by Zuyder-Zee;
Rise up, my children of no name,
My kings and priests to be.
There is an empire in the West,
Which I will soon unfold;
A thousand harvests in her breast,
Rocks ribbed with iron and gold.

Rise up, my children, time is ripe !

Old things are passed away. Bishops and kings from earth I wipe: Too long they've had their day. A little ship have I prepared

To bear you o'er the seas; And in your souls, my will declared, Shall grow by slow degrees.

Beneath my throne the martyrs cry:
I hear their voice, How long?
It mingles with their praises high,
And with their victor song.

The thing they longed and waited for,
But died without the sight;

So, this shall be! I wrong abhor, The world I'll now set right.

Leave, then, the hammer and the loom,
You've other work to do;

For Freedom's commonwealth there's room
And you shall build it too.

I'm tired of bishops and their pride,
I'm tired of kings as well;
Henceforth I take the people's side,
And with the people dwell.

Tear off the mitre from the priest,
And from the king, his crown;
Let all my captives be released;

Lift up, whom men cast down.
Their pastors let the people choose,
And choose their rulers too;
Whom they select, I'll not refuse,
But bless the work they do.

The Pilgrims rose, at this God's word,
And sailed the wintry seas:

With their own flesh nor blood conferred,
Nor thought of wealth or ease.
They left the towers of Leyden town,
They left the Zuyder-Zee;