Behind those chestnut boughs,

Casting their dappled shadows at my

I will be grateful for that simple boon,

feet;

In many a thoughtful verse and anthem sweet,

And bless thy dainty face whene'er we meet.

In nights far gone,—ay, far away and

dead,—

Before care-fretted, with a lidless eye,—
I was thy wooer on my little bed,
Letting the early hours of rest go by,

To see thee flood the heaven with milky

light,

And feed thy snow-white swans, before I

slept ;

For thou wert then purveyor of my dreams,―

Thou wert the fairies' armourer, that kept

Their burnish'd helms, and crowns, and corslets bright,

Their spears, and glittering mails;

And ever thou didst spill in winding streams Sparkles and midnight gleams,

For fishes to new gloss their argent scales!—

Why sighs? why creeping tears?—why clasped hands?

Is it to count the boy's expended dow'r? That fairies since have broke their gifted wands?

That young Delight, like any o'erblown

flow'r,

Gave, one by one, its sweet leaves to the ground?—

Why then, fair moon, for all thou mark'st no hour,

Thou art a sadder dial to old Time

Than ever I have found

On sunny garden-plot, or moss-grown tow'r Motto'd with stern and melancholy rhyme.

Why should I grieve for this?—Oh I must yearn

Whilst Time, conspirator with Memory, Keeps his cold ashes in an ancient urn, Richly emboss'd with childhood's revelry, With leaves and cluster'd fruits, and flow'rs eterne,

(Eternal to the world, though not to me), Aye! there will those brave sports and blossoms be,

The deathless wreath, and undecay'd festoon. When I am hearsed within,—

Less than the pallid primrose to the Moon, That now she watches through a vapour thin.

So let it be :-Before I lived to sigh,

Thou wert in Avon, and a thousand rills, Beautiful Orb! and so, whene'er I lie Trodden, thou wilt be gazing from thy hills. Blest be thy loving light, where'er it spills, And blessed thy fair face, O Mother mild! Still shine, the soul of rivers as they run, Still lend thy lonely lamp to lovers fond, And blend their plighted shadows into one:Still smile at even on the bedded child,

And close his eyelids with thy silver wand!

THE OLD FAMILIAR FACES.

BY CHARLES LAMB.

I HAVE had playmates, I have had companions,

In my days of childhood, in my joyful schooldays,

All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.

I have been laughing, I have been carous

ing,

Drinking late, sitting late, with my

cronies,

All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.

bosom