572. Alciphron and Leucippe AN ancient chestnut's blossoms threw Their heavy odour over two: Leucippe, it is said, was one; The other, then, was Alciphron. 'Come, come! why should we stand beneath This hollow tree's unwholesome breath?' Said Alciphron, 'here 's not a blade Of grass or moss, and scanty shade. Come; it is just the hour to rove In the lone dingle shepherds love; There, straight and tall, the hazel twig Divides the crooked rock-held fig, O'er the blue pebbles where the rill In winter runs and may run still. Come then, while fresh and calm the air, And while the shepherds are not there.' Leucippe. But I would rather go when they Sit round about and sing and play. Then why so hurry me? for you Like play and song, and shepherds too. Alciphron. I like the shepherds very well, And song and play, as you can tell. But there is play, I sadly fear, And song I would not have you hear. Leucippe. What can it be? What can it be? Alciphron. To you may none of them repeat The play that you have play'd with me, The song that made your bosom beat. Leucippe. Don't keep your arm about my waist. Alciphron. Might you not stumble? Leucippe. Well then, do. But why are we in all this haste? Alciphron. To sing. Leucippe. Alas! and not play too? Walter Savage Landor. 1775-1864 573. Years YEARS, many parti-colour'd years, Some have crept on, and some have flown Since first before me fell those tears I never could see fall alone. Years, not so many, are to come, Years not so varied, when from you One more will fall: when, carried home, I see it not, nor hear Adieu. Walter Savage Landor. 1775-1864 574. Separation THERE is a mountain and a wood between us, Where the lone shepherd and late bird have seen us Morning and noon and eventide repass. Between us now the mountain and the wood Seem standing darker than last year they stood, And say we must not cross--alas! alas! Walter Savage Landor. 1775-1864 575. Late Leaves THE leaves are falling; so am I; The few late flowers have moisture in the eye; So have I too. Scarcely on any bough is heard Joyous, or even unjoyous, bird The whole wood through. Winter may come: he brings but nigher His circle (yearly narrowing) to the fire Where old friends meet. Let him; now heaven is overcast, And spring and summer both are past, And all things sweet. Walter Savage Landor. 1775-1864 576. Finis I STROVE with none, for none was worth my strife. Nature I loved and, next to Nature, Art: I warm'd both hands before the fire of life; It sinks, and I am ready to depart. Charles Lamb. 1775-1834 577. The Old Familiar Faces I HAVE had playmates, I have had companions, In my days of childhood, in my joyful school-days-- All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. I have been laughing, I have been carousing, Drinking late, sitting late, with my bosom cronies-- All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.