IX.
You see, we love one another so well,
That we find more comfort than you can tell,
In jingling our bells and corals;
In the fiercer fights of a world so drear,
We keep our spirits so close and clear,
That we need such trivial quarrels.
X.
In the great fierce fights of the world we try
To shield one mother, my wife and I,
Like brave strong man and woman;
But the trivial quarrels o' days and nights
Unshackle our souls for the great fierce fights,
And keep us lowly and human.
XI.
Clouds would grow in the quietest mind,
And make it unmeet to mix with its kind,
Were nature less wine as a mother;
And with storms like ours there must flutter out
From the bosom the hoarded-up darkness and doubt—
The excess of our love for each other!
END OF VOLUME THE SIXTH.
BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.