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ot; There's sky-blue in thy cup! Thou'lt find thy Manhood all too fast-- Soon come, soon gone! and Age at last A sorry _breaking-up_! SONG. There is dew for the flow'ret[6] And honey for the bee, And bowers for the wild bird, And love for you and me. There are tears for the many And pleasures for the few; But let the world pass on, dear, There's love for me and you. There is care that will not leave us, And pain that will not flee; But on our hearth unalter'd Sits Love--'tween you and me. _Our_ love it ne'er was reckon'd, Yet good it is and true, It's _half_ the world to me, dear, It's _all_ the world to you. [Footnote 6: The first two stanzas by Hood, the other two contributed by Barry Cornwall at the request of Mrs. Hood, with a view to the poem being set to music.] THE WATER LADY.[7] [Footnote 7: Suggested, according to Hood's son, by a water-color drawing by Keats's friend Severn.] Alas, the moon should ever beam To show what man should never see!-- I saw a maiden on a stream, And fair was she! I staid awhile, to see her throw Her tresses black, that all beset The fair horizon of her brow With clouds of jet. I staid a little while to view Her cheek, that wore in place of red The bloom of water, tender blue, Daintily spread. I staid to watch, a little space, Her parted lips if she would sing; The waters closed above her face With many a ring. And still I staid a little more, Alas! she never comes again! I throw my flowers from the shore, And watch in vain. I know my life will fade away, I know that I must vainly pine, For I am made of mortal clay, But she's divine! AUTUMN. The Autumn is old, The sere leaves are flying;-- He hath gather'd up gold, And now he is dying;-- Old Age, begin sighing! The vintage is ripe, The harvest is heaping;-- But some that have sow'd Have no riches for reaping;-- Poor wretch, fall a-weeping! The year's in the wane, There is nothing adorning, The night has no eve, And the day has no morning;-- Cold winter gives warning. The rivers run chill, The red sun is sinking, And I am grown old, And life is fast shrinking; Here's enow for sad thinking! I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER. I remember, I remember, The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn; He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day, But now, I often wish th
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