ot;
There's sky-blue in thy cup!
Thou'lt find thy Manhood all too fast--
Soon come, soon gone! and Age at last
A sorry _breaking-up_!

SONG.

There is dew for the flow'ret[6]
And honey for the bee,
And bowers for the wild bird,
And love for you and me.

There are tears for the many
And pleasures for the few;
But let the world pass on, dear,
There's love for me and you.

There is care that will not leave us,
And pain that will not flee;
But on our hearth unalter'd
Sits Love--'tween you and me.

_Our_ love it ne'er was reckon'd,
Yet good it is and true,
It's _half_ the world to me, dear,
It's _all_ the world to you.

[Footnote 6: The first two stanzas by Hood, the other two contributed
by Barry Cornwall at the request of Mrs. Hood, with a view to the poem
being set to music.]

THE WATER LADY.[7]

[Footnote 7: Suggested, according to Hood's son, by a water-color
drawing by Keats's friend Severn.]

Alas, the moon should ever beam
To show what man should never see!--
I saw a maiden on a stream,
And fair was she!

I staid awhile, to see her throw
Her tresses black, that all beset
The fair horizon of her brow
With clouds of jet.

I staid a little while to view
Her cheek, that wore in place of red
The bloom of water, tender blue,
Daintily spread.

I staid to watch, a little space,
Her parted lips if she would sing;
The waters closed above her face
With many a ring.

And still I staid a little more,
Alas! she never comes again!
I throw my flowers from the shore,
And watch in vain.

I know my life will fade away,
I know that I must vainly pine,
For I am made of mortal clay,
But she's divine!

AUTUMN.

The Autumn is old,
The sere leaves are flying;--
He hath gather'd up gold,
And now he is dying;--
Old Age, begin sighing!

The vintage is ripe,
The harvest is heaping;--
But some that have sow'd
Have no riches for reaping;--
Poor wretch, fall a-weeping!

The year's in the wane,
There is nothing adorning,
The night has no eve,
And the day has no morning;--
Cold winter gives warning.

The rivers run chill,
The red sun is sinking,
And I am grown old,
And life is fast shrinking;
Here's enow for sad thinking!

I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER.

I remember, I remember,
The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in at morn;
He never came a wink too soon,
Nor brought too long a day,
But now, I often wish th