From every manly voice!
The high ancestral hall,—
Where Health delights to dwell, and generous Mirth
Holds, when the corn is gathered from the earth,
A grateful festival,—
Adorns the waning scene.
Here may be heard, when in a musing mood,
The cawing of the old rooks in the wood,
That flanks it like a screen.
Is there not much to cheer