cruel spleen
That desolated every scene.
The midget minds of men in power
He satirized from hour to hour,
And on the stage portrayed the greed
Of those who live by crime and creed.
He tore the masks from royal brows
And showed their guilt and broken vows,
Exposing to the laughing throng
The horrid face of vice and wrong.
In every land and every clime,
He honored truth and punctured crime,
And down the years his god-like rhyme
Shall be synonymous with Time!_

We remained among relatives and friends in Warwickshire until the middle of
September, when we heard that the London plague had abated and the
theatrical profession were busy preparing for a winter campaign of dramatic
glory. Shakspere had several plays partly or nearly finished, and, as
Burbage and Henslowe desired our immediate services, we took our departure
from Stratford, with the friendship of the town echoing in our ears.

The flowers and growing fields, the leafy forests and circling and singing
birds seemed to say good-bye, good luck and God bless you!

We felt happy and hopeful ourselves, and consequently Dame Nature echoed
the feeling of our souls. All was joy, song, feasting and laughter.

William, on our way to Oxford, in one of his original flights taken from an
ode of Horace, impulsively exclaimed:

_Laugh and the world laughs with you;
Weep and you weep alone,
This grand old earth must borrow its mirth,
It has troubles enough of its own.
Sing and the hills will answer,
Sigh, it is lost on the air,
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care._

_Be glad and your friends are many;
Be sad and you lose them all;
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone we must drink life's gall.
There's room in the halls of pleasure,
For a long and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on;
Through the narrow aisles of pain._

_Feast, and your halls are crowded,
Fast, and the world goes by,
Succeed and give, 'twill help you live;
But no one can help you die!
Rejoice, and men will seek you,
Grieve, and they turn and go,
They want full measure of all your pleasure
But they do not want your woe!_

These lines impressed me very much at the time and from that day to this I
have never ceased to act on the philosophy of the poem.

It has been