Bring in great logs and let them lie,
To make a solid core of heat;

Be cheerful-minded, talk and treat
Of all things ev'n as he were by:

We keep the day with festal cheer,
With books and music. Surely we
Will drink to him whate'er he be,
And sing the songs he loved to hear.

TENNYSON.

Crateras ignis cor solidum, graves Repone ramos. Jamque doloribus

Loquare securus fugatis

Quæ socio loquereris illo;

Hunc dedicamus lætitiæ diem
Lyræque musisque. Illius, illius
Da, quicquid audit: nec silebunt
Qui numeri placuere vivo.

TEARS, IDLE TEARS.

TEARS, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy Autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more.

Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge ; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.

Ah, sad and strange as in dark Summer dawns The earliest pipe of half-awaken'd birds To dying ears, when unto dying eyes

The casement slowly grows a glimmering square; So sad, so strange, the days that are no more. TENNYSON,

Surgit amari aliquid.

SCILICET et lacrymas quis dixerit unde profectas?— Nescio quod desiderium divinius imo

Nil profecturas e pectore cogit, et udi

Stant oculi: quoties auctumni aprica tuemur
Rura, diesque animo qui præteriere recursant.

Dulce jubar, candent quo primo vela carinæ, Altero ab orbe tuos tibi summittentis amicos: Triste, quod in freta longa rubet condentibus isdem Teque tuæque animæ partem. Tam dulcis imago Tam te tristis obit, qui præteriere, dierum.

Ægrum, ac tanquam aliunde, sonat morientis in

aure

Excutientum avium sublustri mane sopores

Estivus canor, incipiunt ubi languida circa
Lumina majores noto trepidare fenestræ.

Tanquam aliunde, dies qui præteriere revortunt.

PSALM LV. v. 4.

My heart is disquieted within me: and
The fear of death is fallen upon me.

Fearfulness and trembling are come upon me: And an horrible dread hath overwhelmed me.

And I said, O that I had wings like a dove: For then would I flee away, and be at rest.

Lo, then would I get me away far off;
And remain in the wilderness.

I would make haste to escape;

Because of the stormy wind and tempest.