Bright memories of young poetic pleasure In free companionship, the loving stress Of all life-beauty lull'd in studious leisure, When every Muse was jocund with excess Of fine delight and tremulous happiness; The breath of an indolent unbridled June, When delicate thought fell from the dreamy moon: But now strange care, sorrow, and grief oppress. '_Ah! fewer tears shall be_,--'tis thus they dream,-- _Ah, fewer, softer tears, when we lie low: On younger brows shall brighter laurel gleam: Lovelier and earlier shall the rosebuds blow_.' For in this hope she nurs'd them, and to know That Truth, while men regard a tetter'd page, Leaps on the mountains, and from age to age Reveals the dayspring's inexhausted glow. Yet all their joy is mingled with regret: As the lone scholar on a neighbouring height, Brooding disconsolate with eyelids wet Ere o'er the unkind world he took his flight, Look'd down upon her festal lamps at night, And while the far call of her warning bell Reach't to his heart, sang us his fond farewell, Beneath the stars thinking of lost delight; 'Farewell! for whether we be young or old, Thou dost remain, but we shall pass away: Time shall against himself thy house uphold, And build thy sanctuary from decay; Children unborn shall be thy pride and stay. May Earth protect thee, and thy sons be true; And God with heavenly food thy life renew, Thy pleasure and thy grace from day to day.' 17 IN MEMORY OF THE OLD-ETONIANS WHOSE LIVES WERE LOST IN THE S. AFRICAN WAR _An ode set to music by Sir Hubert Parry and performed when K. Edward VII inaugurated the Memorial Hall at Eton College_ I Resound! Resound! To jubilant music ring! Your birthday trumpets sound the alarm of strenuous days. Ye new-built walls, awake! and welcome England's King With a high GLORY-TO-GOD, and holy cheer of praise. Awake to fairest hope of fames unknown, unseen, When ye-too silver and solemn with age shall be: For all that is fair upon earth is reared with tend'rest teen, As the burden'd years to memory flee. II Lament, O Muse of the Thames, in pride lament again, With low melodious grief remember them in this hour!-- Beyond your dauntless joy, my brother, was our pain. Above all gold, my country, the lavish price of thy power-- The ancient groves have mourn'd our sons, for whom no more The sisterly kisses of life, the loved embraces. Remember the love of them who came not home from the war, The fatherly tears and the veil'd faces. III