310 AUSTIN
When hazel-nuts wax brown and plump,
And apples rosy-red, And the owlet hoots from hollow stump,
And the dormouse makes its bed; When crammed are all the granary floors,
And the Hunter's moon is bright, And life again is sweet indoors,
And logs again alight; Ay, even when the houseless wind
Waileth through cleft and chink, And in the twilight maids grow kind,
And jugs are filled and clink; When children clasp their hands and pray
'Be done Thy Heavenly will ! ' Who doth not lift his voice, and say,
'Life is worth living still '?
Is life worth living? Yes, so long
As there is wrong to right, Wail of the weak against the strong,
Or tyranny to fight; Long as there lingers gloom to chase,
Or streaming tear to dry, One kindred woe, one sorrowing face
That smiles as we draw nigh; Long as at tale of anguish swells
The heart, and lids grow wet, And at the sound of Christmas bells
We pardon and forget; So long as Faith with Freedom reigns,
And loyal Hope survives,
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