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THE ARGUMENT.
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THE GENERAL ARGUMENT.
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THE ARGUMENT.
...

ARGUMENT OF THE THIRD BOOK.
...

A Tale Of Earnest Effort And Human Perfidy.

It's all very well for preachin',
But preachin' and practice don't gee:
I've give the thing a fair trial,
And you can't ring it in on me....

[1]

The farmer's patient care and toil
Are oftener wanting than the soil.

A wealthy ploughman drawing near his end,
Call'd in his sons apart from every friend,...

But a bold pheasantry, their country's pride
When once destroyed can never be supplied.
GOLDSMITH.


Bill Blossom was a nice young man,
And drove the Bury coach;...

Down, you mongrel, Death!
Back into your kennel!
I have stolen breath
In a stalk of fennel!
You shall scratch and you shall whine
Many a night, and you shall worry
Many a bone, before you bury...

A song is but a little thing,
And yet what joy it is to sing!
In hours of toil it gives me zest,
And when at eve I long for rest;
When cows come home along the bars,
And in the fold I hear the bell,...

Glory and gain thus mixed distract the thought,
We owe to honour all, to fortune nought;
The poet, like the soldier, scorns for pay
Peruvian gold, but seeks the wreath of bay....

How's a man to write a sonnet, can you tell,--
How's he going to weave the dim, poetic spell,--
When a-toddling on the floor
Is the muse he must adore,
And this muse he loves, not wisely, but too well?
...

Said a people to a poet "Go out from among us straightway!
While we are thinking earthly things, thou singest of divine.
There's a little fair brown nightingale, who, sitting in the gateways...

A TALE OF TRANSFORMATIONS.


A little Brook, that babbled under grass,
Once saw a Poet pass--
A Poet with long hair and saddened eyes,
Who went his weary way with woeful sighs....

As often as I murmur here
My half-formed melodies,
Straight from her osier mansion near,
The Turtledove replies:
Though silent as a leaf before,
The captive promptly coos;...

Longfellow.


With a glory of winter sunshine
Over his locks of gray,
In the old historic mansion
He sat on his last birthday;

With his books and his pleasant pictures,...

If those who wield the Rod forget,
'Tis truly--Quis custodiet?


A certain Bard (as Bards will do)
Dressed up his Poems for Review.
His Type was plain, his Title clear;...

Said a poet to a woodlouse, "Thou art certainly my brother;
I discern in thee the markings of the fingers of the Whole;
And I recognize, in spite of all the terrene smut and smother,...

I do not love to wed,
Though I do like to woo;
And for a maidenhead
I'll beg and buy it too.

I'll praise and I'll approve
Those maids that never vary;
And fervently I'll love,...

Oh! Kitty Malone--Mrs. Merdle 'tis now--
Was there ever on earth than this, greater folly?

Still gorging, while groaning, and swearing a vow,
That yours is a case of most sad melancholy.
...

Underneath their eider-robe
Russet swede and golden globe,
Feathered carrot, burrowing deep,
Steadfast wait in charmed sleep;
Treasure-houses wherein lie,
Locked by angels' alchemy,...