the same;
Between which radiations vast mountains does arise,
As full of tarns as sieves of holes, in which big fish will rise,
That is, just one day in the year, if you be there, my boy,
Just about ten o’clock at night; and then I wish you joy. 
Now to this Pen-y-gwrydd inn I purposeth to write,
(Axing the post town out of Froude, for I can’t mind it quite),
And to engage a room or two, for let us say a week,
For fear of gents, and Manichees, and reading parties meek,
And there to live like fighting-cocks at almost a bob a day,
And arterwards toward the sea make tracks and cut away,
All for to catch the salmon bold in Aberglaslyn pool,
And work the flats in Traeth-Mawr, and will, or I’m a fool. 
And that’s my game, which if you like, respond to me by post;
But I fear it will not last, my son, a thirteen days at most. 
Flies is no object; I can tell some three or four will do,
And John Jones, Clerk, he knows the rest, and ties and sells ’em too. 
Besides of which I have no more to say, leastwise just now,
And so, goes to my children’s school and ’umbly makes my bow.

Eversley, 1857.

ODE ON THE INSTALLATION OF THE DUKE OF DEVONSHIRE, CHANCELLOR OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE, 1862 {303}

Hence a while, severer Muses;
Spare your slaves till drear October. 
Hence; for Alma Mater chooses
Not to be for ever sober: 
But, like stately matron gray,
Calling child and grandchild round her,
Will for them at least be gay;
Share for once their holiday;
And, knowing she will sleep the sounder,
Cheerier-hearted on the morrow
Rise to grapple care and sorrow,
Grandly leads the dance adown, and joins the children’s play. 
      So go, for in your places
      Already, as you see,
(Her tears for some deep sorrow scarcely dried),
Venus holds court among her sinless graces,
With many a nymph from many a park and lea. 
She, pensive, waits the merrier faces
Of those your wittier sisters three,
O’er jest and dance and song who still preside,
To cheer her in this merry-mournful tide;
   And bids us, as she smiles or sighs,
   Tune our fancies by her eyes.

   Then let the young be glad,
   Fair girl and gallant lad,
   And sun themselves to-day
   By lawn and garden gay;
   ’Tis play befits the noon
   Of rosy-girdled June: 
   Who dare frown if heaven shall smile? 
   Blest, who can forget a while;
   The world before them, and above
   The light of universal love. 
Go, then, let the young be gay;
From their heart as from their dress
Let darkness and let mourning pass away,
While we the staid and worn look on and bless.