Stoop to our hand, and thence repleted soar:
But, of all hopes the wanderer’s soul that share,
His pristine peace of mind’s his final prayer.
From Scribner’s Monthly, May, 1881.
——:o:——
A Brand-New Song,
(After Goldsmith.)
(On the Speaker of the House of Commons,
Sir H. B. W. Brand, having his pocket picked of his watch
at the Folly Theatre.)