XII.
The star! the star! oh! blazing light that burns into my soul!
The star! the star! oh! flickering light of life beyond control!
O King! remember Vashti, thy Beautiful, thy own,
Who loved thee and shall love thee still, when Esther’s light has flown!
SHAKSPERE.
April 23rd, 1864.
I.
To-day, three hundred years ago,
A common, English April morn,
In Stratford town a child was born,
Stratford, where Avon’s waters flow.
II.
No guns are fired, no joy-bell rings:
But neighbours call to see the boy
And mother, and to wish them joy,
And then—attend to other things.
III.
Some years glide by—the boy is man;
At school they thought him apt to learn;
And now he goes from home to earn
His livelihood, as best he can.