The Squire affirms, with gravest look,
His oak goes up to Domesday Book!—
And some say even higher!
We rode last week to see the ruin,
We love the fair domain it grew in,
And well we love the Squire.
A nature loyally controlled,
And fashioned in that righteous mould
Of English gentleman;—
My child may some day read these rhymes,—
She loved her "godpapa" betimes,—
The little Christian!
I love the Past, its ripe pleasànce,
Its lusty thought, and dim romance,
And heart-compelling ditties;
But more, these ties, in mercy sent,
With faith and true affection blent,
And, wanting them, I were content
To murmur, "Nunc dimittis."
Hallingbury, April, 1859.
AN INVITATION TO ROME, AND THE REPLY.
THE INVITATION.
O, come to Rome, it is a pleasant place,
Your London sun is here seen shining brightly:
The Briton too puts on a cheery face,
And Mrs. Bull is suave and even sprightly.
The Romans are a kind and cordial race,
The women charming, if one takes them rightly;
I see them at their doors, as day is closing,
More proud than duchesses—and more imposing.
A "far niente" life promotes the graces;—
They pass from dreamy bliss to wakeful glee,
And in their bearing, and their speech, one traces
A breadth of grace and depth of courtesy
That are not found in more inclement places;
Their clime and tongue seem much in harmony;
The Cockney met in Middlesex, or Surrey,
Is often cold—and always in a hurry.