To bring very often my first to my second.
III.
My first, though your house, nay your life, he defends,
You ungratefully name like the wretch you despise;
My second, I speak it with grief, comprehends
All the brave, and the good, and the learn’d, and the wise.
Of my third I have little or nothing to say,
Except that it tells the departure of day.
IV.
The child of a peasant, Rose thought it no shame