And strange, wild thoughts had he !

Away with the book and the pen !
And out with the crowds of men !
You wear away your body and soul,
And what 's your reward. Boy, then ?

He looked on the World with his large, dark eyes ;

They rolled with a sovereign pride :
Then was he humble, and then came sighs ;

But not with a word he replied.
Away with the book and thB pen !



136 ITYWALL.
Yet he was not always, always sad :

In the golden summer days,
Alone in the fields, would a flower make him glad,

Or the wild bird's sweet, shrill lays !

Away with the book and the pen !

In the green, soft shade, by the willowy stream.
Would he write his music-thought,
Till, through the clouds, his happy dream

The wings of angels caught !

Away with the book and the pen !

They found him sleeping 'mid the flowers,

A smile on his pale, cold face ;
But his soul, in a fairer Land than ours.
No mortal eye may trace !

Away with the book and the pen !

He had walked the earth : they knew him not :

He went to the angel shore :
Yet never here shall his name be forgot.
And his loving, blissful lore !

Eor the book and the sacred pen.
They have made him dear to men ;
And beauty and truth now ofi'er the world
The joy that he dreamed of then !



IVYWALL. 137



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