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For my cricket has learnt, I am sure of it quite,
That this earth is a silly, strange place,

And perhaps he's been beaten and hurt in the fight,
And perhaps he's been passed in the race.

But I know he has found it far better to sing

Than to talk of ill luck and to sigh,Little we care for the outside world, My friend the cricket, and I.

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Perhaps he has loved, and perhaps he has lost,
And perhaps he is weary and weak,
And tired of life's torrent, so turbid and tost,
And disposed to be mournful and meek.
Yet still I believe that he thinks it is best
To sing, and let troubles float by,
Little we care for the outside world,
My friend the cricket, and I.

SONG: ON MAY MORNING.

JOHN MILTON.

Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger,
Comes dancing from the East, and leads with her
The flowery May, who from her green lap throws
The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose.

Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire
Mirth, and youth, and warm desire!
Woods and groves are of thy dressing,
Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing.
Thus we salute thee with our early song,
And welcome thee, and wish thee long.

TURN, FORTUNE, TURN THY WHEEL!

ALFRED TENNYSON.

TURN, Fortune, turn thy wheel, and lower the proud ; Turn thy wild wheel through sunshine, storm and cloud! Thy wheel and thee we neither love nor hate.

Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel with smile or frown;
With that wild wheel we go not up or down;
Our hoard is little, but our hearts are great.

Smile and we smile, the lords of many lands;
Frown, and we smile, the lords of our own hands;
For man is man, and master of his fate.

Turn, turn thy wheel above the staring crowd!
Thy wheel and thou are shadows in the cloud,
Thy wheel and thee we neither love nor hate.

TO MISTRESS MARGARET HUSSEY.

JOHN SKELTON.

MERRY Margaret

As midsummer flower

Gentle as falcon,

Or hawk of the tower;
With solace and gladness,
Much mirth and no madness,
All good and no badness;

So joyously,
So maidenly,

So womanly

Her demeaning, -
In everything
Far, far passing
That I can indite,
Or suffice to write,
Of merry Margaret,
As midsummer flower,
Gentle as falcon

Or hawk of the tower;
As patient and as still,
And as full of good-will,
As fair Isiphil,
Coliander,

Sweet Pomander,

Good Cassander;

Steadfast of thought,

Well made, well wrought;

Far may be sought

Ere you can find

So courteous, so kind,

As merry Margaret,

This midsummer flower

Gentle as falcon

Or hawk of the tower.

OH, THE PLEASANT DAYS OF OLD!

FRANCES BROWN.

Он, the pleasant days of old, which so often people praise!

True, they wanted all the luxuries that grace our modern days:

Bare floors were strewed with rushes—the walls let in the cold:

Oh, how they must have shivered in those pleasant days of old!

Oh, those ancient lords of old! How magnificent they

were!

They threw down and imprisoned kings-to thwart them, who might dare?

They ruled their serfs right sternly; they took from Jews their gold —

Above both law and equity were those great lords of old!

Oh, the gallant knights of old, for their valor so renowned!

With sword and lance and armor strong, they scoured the country round;

And whenever aught to tempt them they met by wood or wold,

By right of sword, they seized the prize -those gallant knights of old!

Oh, those gentle dames of old, who, quite free from fear or pain,

Could gaze on joust and tournament, and see their champion slain!

They lived on good beefsteaks and ale, which made them strong and bold —

Oh, more like men than women were those gentle dames of old!

Oh, those mighty towers of old, with their turrets, moat, and keep,

Their battlements and bastions, their dungeons dark. and deep!

Full many a baron held his court within the castle

hold;

And many a captive languished there in those strong towers of old!

Oh, the troubadours of old, with their gentle minstrelsie Of hope and joy or deep despair, whiche'er their lot might be!

For years they served their ladye-love ere they their passion told;

Oh, wondrous patience must have had those troubadours of old!

Oh, those blessed times of old, with their chivalry and state!

I love to read their chronicles which such brave deeds

relate;

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