Soldier, Rest! Thy Warfare O'er.

In Prosperous Times I Have Sometimes Felt My Fancy And Powers Of Language Flag, But Adversity Is To Me At Least A Tonic And Bracer.

One Hour Of Life, Crowded To The Full With Glorious Action, And Filled With Noble Risks, Is Worth Whole Years Of Those Mean Observances Of Paltry Decorum, In Which Men Steal Through Existence, Like Sluggish Waters Through A Marsh, Without Either Honor Or Observation.

England Was Merry England, When Old Christmas Brought His Sports Again. 'twas Christmas Broach'd The Mightiest Ale; 'twas Christmas Told The Merriest Tale; A Christmas Gambol Oft Could Cheer The Poor Man's Heart Through Half The Year.

'tis An Old Tale, And Often Told; But Did My Fate And Wish Agree, Ne'er Had Been Read, In Story Old, Of Maiden True Betray'd For Gold, That Loved, Or Was Avenged, Like Me!

The Summer Dawn's Reflected Hue To Purple Changed Lock Katrine Blue, Mildly And Soft The Western Breeze Just Kiss'd The Lake, Just Stirr'd The Trees, And The Pleased Lake, Like Maiden Coy, Trembled But Dimpled Not For Joy.