Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,

Although thy breath be rude.

Heigh-ho! sing heigh-ho! unto the green holly: Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly; Then heigh-ho! the holly!

2.

This life is most jolly.

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky-
Thou dost not bite so nigh

As benefits forgot;

Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp

As friend remembered not.

Heigh-ho! sing heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly;
Then heigh-ho! the holly!
This life is most jolly.

1.

Under the greenwood tree
Who loves to lie with me,

And tune his merry note

Unto the sweet bird's throat,

Come hither, come hither, come hither;
Here shall he see

No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

2.

Who doth ambition shun

And loves to live i' the sun,
Seeking the food he eats,

And pleased with what he gets,
Come hither, come hither, come hither;
Here shall he see

No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

1. Ingratitude, heigh-ho, feigning, ambition.

2. Explain "thy tooth is not so keen," "thy breath be rude," "thou dost not bite so nigh," "waters warp,' ""this life is most jolly." Does the chorus of the first song seem to reverse the complaint in the stanzas? What is the use of "heigh-ho"?

LXIII EARTH AND HER PRAISERS.

1. "Sweet children, I am old! ye, every one,
Do keep me from a portion of my sun:

Give praise in change for brightness!
That I may shake my hills in infiniteness
Of breezy laughter, as in youthful mirth,
To hear Earth's sons and daughters praising
Earth."

2. Whereupon a child began,
With spirit running up to man
As by an angel's shining ladder,

(May he find no cloud above!)
Seeming he had ne'er been sadder
All his days than now-

3. "O rare, rare Earth!" he saith,
"I will praise thee presently;
Not to-day, I have no breath:

I have hunted squirrels three-
Two ran down in the furzy hollow,
Where I could not see nor follow;
One sits at the top of the filbert tree,
With a yellow nut, and a mock at me:
Presently it shall be done!

When I see which way these two have run
When the mocking one at the filbert top
Shall leap adown, and beside me stop,
Then, rare Earth, rare Earth,
Will I pause, having known thy worth,
To say all good of thee!"

4. Ha, a poet! know him by The ecstasy-dilated eye.

'Neath a golden cloud he stands,
Spreading his impassioned hands.
"O God's Earth," he saith, "the sign
From the Father-soul to mine

Of all beauteous mysteries,
Of all perfect images

Which, divine in His divine,

In

my human only are

Very excellent and fair!

If were struck no richer meanings

From thee than thyself; the leanings
Of the close trees o'er the brim
Of a sunshine-haunted stream
Have a sound beneath their leaves,
Not of wind, not of wind,
Which the poet's voice achieves:

5. “The faint mountains heaped behind, Have a falling on their tops,

6.

Not of dew, not of dew,
Which the poet's fancy drops:
Viewless things his eyes can view,
Driftings of his dreams do light
All the skies by day and night,
And the seas that deepest roll
Carry murmurs of his soul.
I praise thee, O beloved sign,
From the God-soul unto mine!"

There was silence. None did dare
To use again the spoken air

Of that far-charming voice, until
A Christian, resting on the hill,

7.

Without new tears, did softly say,
And looked up unto heaven alway
While he praised the Earth,-

"O Earth,

I count the praises thou art worth,
By thy waves that move aloud,
By thy hills against the cloud,
By thy valleys warm and green,
By thy copses' elms between,
By their birds which, like a sprite
Scattered by a strong delight
Into fragments musical,
Stir and sing in every bush;

8.

"Oh, beautiful

Art thou, Earth, albeit worse

Than in heaven is called good!
Praised be thy mosses soft

In thy forest pathways oft,

And the thorns, which make us think

Of the thornless river-brink

Where the ransomed tread!

Praised be thine active days,

And thy night-time's solemn need,
When in God's dear book we read

No night shall be therein.