NE'ER ASK THE HOUR. I. NE'ER ask the hour-what is it to us The golden moments, lent us thus, If counting them over could add to their blisses, But moments of joy are, like LESBIA's kisses, The fairy hours we call up thus, II. Young Joy ne'er thought of counting hours, A dial, by way of warning. But Joy loved better to gaze on the sun, As long as its light was glowing, Than to watch with old Care how the shadow stole on, And how fast that light was going. So fill the cup-what is it to us SAIL ON, SAIL ON. I. SAIL on, sail on, thou fearless bark- More sad than those we leave behind. 66 Though death beneath our smile may be, "Less cold we are, less false than they, "Whose smiling wreck'd thy hopes and thee.” II. Sail on, sail on-through endless space Through calm-through tempest-stop no more; The stormiest sea's a resting-place To him who leaves such hearts on shore. Or, if some desert land we meet, Where never yet false-hearted men Profaned a world, that else were sweet→→ Then rest thee, bark, but not till then. |