THE WELCOME. I. COME in the evening, or come in the morning; Come when you're looked for, or come without warning; And the oftener you come here the more I'll adore you! II. I'll pull you sweet flowers, to wear if you choose them! III. We'll look through the trees at the cliff and the eyrie; THE WELCOME. O she'll whisper you- "Love, as unchangeably beaming; And trust, when in secret, most tunefully streaming; " Till the starlight of Heaven above us shall quiver, As our souls flow in one down Eternity's river. SONG. Kisses and welcome you'll find here before you, And the oftener you come here the more I'll adore you! Light is my heart since the day we were plighted; The green of the trees looks far greener than ever, And the linnets are singing "True lovers don't sever!" THOMAS Davis. SONG. GATHER ye rosebuds as ye may: Old Time is still a-flying, And this same flower that smiles to-day The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun, The sooner will his race be run, That age is best which is the first, Then be not coy, but use your time, 1 ROBERT HERRICK. THE FISHERMEN. THREE fishers went sailing out into the west, Out into the west as the sun went down; Each thought of the woman who loved him the best, And the children stood watching them out of the town. For men must work, and women must weep; And there's little to earn, and many to keep, Three wives sat up in the light-house tower, And they looked at the squall, and they looked at the shower, But men must work, and women must weep, Though storms be sudden, and waters deep, Three corpses lay out on the shining sands, In the morning gleam as the tide went down; And the women are watching, and wringing their hands, For men must work, and women must weep; And good-bye to the bar and its moaning! CHARLES Kingsley. OLD TIMES. I. OLD times, old times, the gay old times, My Sunday palm beside me placed, A heart at rest within my breast, And sunshine on the land! Old times! Old times! II. It is not that my fortunes flee, A wiser head I have, I know, Than when I loitered there; But in my wisdom there is woe, Old times! Old times! III. I've lived to know my share of joy, To feel my share of pain, |