The young May moon is beaming, love, The glow-worm's lamp is gleaming, love, How sweet to rove Through Morna's grove While the drowsy world is dreaming, love! Then awake--the heavens look bright, my dear! 'Tis never too late for delight, my dear! And the best of all ways To lengthen our days Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear! _Silas Wegg's Effusions_ We first meet Silas Wegg in the fifth chapter of _Our Mutual Friend_, where he is introduced to us as a ballad-monger. His intercourse with his employer, Mr. Boffin, is a frequent cause of his dropping into poetry, and most of his efforts are adaptations of popular songs. His character is not one that arouses any sympathetic enthusiasm, and probably no one is sorry when towards the end of the story Sloppy seizes hold of the mean little creature, carries him out of the house, and deposits him in a scavenger's cart 'with a prodigious splash.' The following are Wegg's poetical effusions, with their sources and original forms. Book I, Ch. 5. 'Beside that cottage door, Mr. Boffin,' from 'The Soldier's Tear' _Alexander Lee_ Beside that cottage porch A girl was on her knees; She held aloft a snowy scarf Which fluttered in the breeze. She breath'd a prayer for him, A prayer he could not hear; But he paused to bless her as she knelt, And wip'd away a tear. Book I, Ch. 15. The gay, the gay and festive scene, I'll tell thee how the maiden wept, Mrs. Boffin. From 'The Light Guitar.' (See Index of Songs.) Book I, Ch. 15. 'Thrown on the wide world, doomed to wander and roam.' From 'The Peasant Boy' _J. Parry_ Thrown on the wide world, doom'd to wander and roam, Bereft of his parents, bereft of his home, A stranger to pleasure, to comfort and joy, Behold little Edmund, the poor Peasant Boy. Book I, Ch. 15. 'Weep for the hour.' From 'Eveleen's Bower' _T. Moore_ Oh! weep for the hour When to Eveleen's bower The lord of the valley with false vows came. Book I, Ch 15. 'Then farewell, my trim-built wherry.' From 'The Waterman' _C. Dibdin_ Book II, Ch. 7. 'Helm a-weather, now lay her close.' From 'The Tar for all Weathers' _Unknown_ Book III, Ch. 6. 'No malice to dread, sir.' From verse 3 of 'My Ain Fireside.' Words by _Mrs. E. Hamilton_ Nae falsehood to dread, nae malice to fear, But truth to delight me, and kindness to cheer; O' a' roads to pleasure that ever were tried, There's nane half so sure as one's own fireside. My ain fireside, my ain fireside, Oh sweet is the blink o' my ain fireside. Book III, Ch. 6.