And twanged his tinkling orient lyre with pride.
THE MOANING OF THE BARDS.
No moaning of the bards! A pleasant quip!
No manufactured gloom to dim that far light!
Of dirge's luxury deprive my lip?
So suns might say there shall be no more starlight!
Lamping is not required at day's full noon,
Lanterns are out of place in dawn's fair flush-light;
But when dark night sets in, and there's no moon,
There is a chance for stars, or even a rushlight.