, pay thy debts precisely,
Life's a long and weary way;
And to-morrow thou must borrow,
As thou borrow'dst yesterday.

XXXIX.

Three holy kings from the land of the West
Go asking whoso passes,
"Where is the road to Bethlehem,
Ye gentle lads and lasses?"

But neither young nor old can tell.
The kings fare patient onward,
They follow a golden star o'erhead,
That bright and kind shines downward.

The star stands still o'er Joseph's house,
Thither the pilgrims bringing;
The oxen low, the Infant cries,
The three wise kings are singing.

XL.

My child, we two were children,
As lively as ever you saw,
We crept into the hencoop,
And we hid there beneath the straw.

And there, like cocks, crowed loudly,
While folk went passing by.
"Kickery-koo!" they fancied,
'Twas really the cock's own cry.

The chests that lay in the courtyard,
With paper we overlaid.
Therein we lived together;
An excellent house we made.

The old cat of our neighbor
Would visit us at whiles;
We gave her bows and curtsies,
And compliments and smiles.

After her health we inquired
Gravely whenever she came.
To many an ancient Tabby
Since then we have done the same.

We talked like grown folks sagely,
And sat there oft and long,
Complaining how all had altered,
Since the days when we were young.

How love and faith and friendship
Had vanished, the world was bare;
How dear were tea and coffee,
And money had grown so rare!

Those childish games are over,
All things roll on with youth,--
Money, the world, and the seasons,
And faith and love and truth.

XLI.

My heart is heavy; from the present
It yearns towards those old days again,
When still the world seemed fair and pleasant,
And men lived happy, free from pain.

Now all things seem at six and sevens,
A scramble and a constant dread;
Dead is the Lord God in the heavens,
Below us is the devil dead.

And all folks sad and mournful moving,
Wear such a cross, cold, anxious face;
Were there not still a little loving,
There would not be a resting place.

XLII.

As the moon with splendor pierces
Through the dark cloud-veil of night,
From my darksome Past emerges
Once again a dream of light.

All upon the deck were seated,
Proudly sailing down the Rhine.
Green with