THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES FROM THE LIBRARY OF ERNEST CARROLL MOORE POEMS PLAYS MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS POEMS PLAYS AND MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS OF CHARLES LAMB WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES BY ALFRED AINGER Hontion MACMILLAN AND CO. 1884 Printed by R. & R. CLARK, Edinburgh. College Library fie. 4-ftO Af INTRODUCTION. THE present volume, with its predecessor the Essays of Elia, contains all of Lamb's miscellaneous writings that he had himself selected for preservation in a permanent shape. Twice during his lifetime were issued collections of his prose and verse, the Works of Charles Lamb, published by the Olliers in 1818, and the Album Verses issued by Edward Moxon in 1830. The volume now presented is made up of the contents of these two works. Nothing has been omitted, but a few additions have been made, on a principle which I will explain. When Lamb collected his poems in 1818, he omitted from them certain pathetic verses which had been wrung from him by the first and deepest sorrow of his life his mother's death. These he had printed when the calamity was still recent, most of them in a slender volume of blank verse written jointly by Charles Lloyd and himself in 1802. But in later years he naturally and rightly shrank from recalling to his beloved sister events in which she had taken so terrible a part. Such a reason for their omission has long ceased to exist, and accordingly they are here restored, as nearly as possible in the order of their composition. Again, after Lamb's death his literary executors who had better reason than we can have for knowing which of the fugitive verses written between 1830 and his death in 1834 Lamb most valued added in the subsequent editions of his writings some half a dozen pieces that had appeared in newspapers and journals. These have been accordingly retained in the present edition. But other occasional verses a few 1569914 vi INTRODUCTION. translations, epilogues and prologues, epigrams and political squibs, which have been of late years carefully gleaned by editors of Lamb, are not here included, and the volume makes no claim, in their sense of the word, to possess the merit of completeness. Without suggesting or believing that even the lightest trifles of a humorist like Lamb are not worthy of preservation, I yet cherish a strong opinion that when a writer has him- self chosen for the people " of his best," that best should be at least kept separate from matter of less worth. Acting on the same principle, I have left for a conclud- ing volume (should it be called for) those slighter prose essays and jeux d? esprit which have been collected of late years, and entitled not, I think, very felicitously, Eliana. I have arranged the poems as far as possible in chrono- logical order. Lamb put so much of his personal history into his verse that when so presented it forms a delightful running commentary upon his life and education. In his early sonnets we read of his happy holiday seasons with his grandmother, Mrs. Field, at Blakesware, and the first and only love romance of his life. Then we are reminded of such alleviations of his sad and monotonous family story as were afforded by a rare excursion to the seaside or the more frequent visit to the theatre, or best of all by his correspondence or occasional meetings with Coleridge and Lloyd. Then, for a while, the verse be- comes darkened by domestic calamity, and the sonnet measure of Bowles gives place to the blank verse of Oowper, whose pious example seems to have given courage to Lamb's own deep sense of need to express itself in verse. But as we read on, we trace mind and spirit recovering from their great shock, and braced by new friendships and fresh literary interests and sym- pathies. A fleeting passion for Hester Savory inspires his sweetest lyric, and his struggle with the seductions of his " sweet enemy," Tobacco, produces the first and most remarkable of those poems in which he shewed himself the disciple of Wither and Jonson and the INTRODUCTION. Vll later Elizabethans, and "sealed himself," as was said in that elder time, " of the tribe of Ben." And lastly, when poverty and domestic anxiety no longer press, and his unique genius is gradually revealed to himself as well as to others as life becomes gladdened and enriched by the sympathy of admiring friends, Wordsworth and Hunt, Barton and Hood, Talfourd and Crabb Robinson, his verse still flows, reflecting with the same genial transparency the changed condition of things. And when towards the end, " genius declines with him," to use his own expression, but he " grows clever " when, moreover, his fame is fixed and secure and there is no need to write, save for his friends' gratification, since "cash at Leadenhall" means "corn in Egypt" he is always ready to make happy by an acrostic or some other poetical conceit all the young ladies among his friends and neighbours who come round him with their albums. As I have just intimated, the chronological order enables us to trace the succession of literary influences under which his verse was produced. Beginning, as his friend Coleridge also began, from an emotional impulse given by the sonnets of Bowles, he passes for a while under the dominion of Cowper, but his studies in a widely different poetic school begin very shortly to assert themselves, and to retain control over him for the rest of his life. In 1805, when he wrote his Farewell to Tobacco, he confided to Wordsworth that it was George Wither who had supplied him with the metre and in part with the manner of his verse. And from this time onward the seven -syllabled trochaic couplet of the Shepherd's Hunting becomes his " darling measure," as it had been Wither's. It was in fact one of the commonest lyric measures of the great Elizabethans. Lamb knew it well from Shakspere's " On a day (alack the day)," and Beaumont's Lines on the Tombs, and many a song and epigram of Fletcher and Jonson. But it was exceptionally characteristic of Wither, and from the day that Lamb came under its spell, it is clear that no other Vlll INTRODUCTION. metre came so naturally to him or seemed to fit so well his peculiar gift. His most distinctive verse such as his lines to Thornton Hunt, or on the death of Thomas Hood's infant child is henceforth composed in it. And it denotes, I think, a confident assurance in Lamb of a certain kinship with the Elizabethans, that he felt no mis- givings that the same verdict might be passed upon him as upon a despised singer of Queen Anne's day, and that 7m Muse might also be labelled Namby-Pamby. He knew, as he has so finely said of Ambrose Philips, that it is the poet who makes the metre, not " the metre the poet ;" and he felt that in his degree (however modestly he might estimate that degree) he possessed a faculty that would make itself felt, as in Wither and Fletcher, through the jingle of the short line and the rapidly re- curring rhyme. In his verse, therefore, as in the best of his serious prose, I still think that Lamb may be reckoned as among the last of the Elizabethans. A kind and generous reviewer of my Edition of Elia has taken exception to my use of this phrase, and given reasons for thinking that Lamb was as much indebted to the literary influences of the eighteenth century as to those of the sixteenth and seventeenth. In this opinion I am quite at one with my critic, but I cannot agree with him that Lamb, while having much in common with the last century humorists, ever shewed himself a despiser or disparager of their excellences. The careless depreciation of the eighteenth century, now so common, had hardly begun in Lamb's day, and if it had, he would have been the last to countenance it. Although Lamb had his perversenesses and prejudices as a critic, it was always against individuals and never against classes or schools of writers, still less against the centuries which produced them. He was intimately acquainted with the poets, essayists, and novelists of the last century. Pope's couplets he seems to have had by heart, and was never weary of quoting and applying them ; Defoe and Swift, Addison and Steele, were to him dear and familiar friends. INTRODUCTION. IX When he declares that " the pen of Yorick and none since his could have drawn entire" the character of his brother, James Elia, or dwells with such loving emphasis on the well-worn " Circulating Library Tom Jones or Vicar of Wakefield, speaking of the thousand thumbs that have turned over their pages with delight," it is impossible to mistake the writer's own devout affection for these master- pieces of the imagination. In his earliest prose essays he adopts quite naturally the form and manner of the Tatler, when he sits down to address his views of men and things to "Mr. Reflector." But when he is most decidedly the literary successor of the great masters who built the Essay upon Steele's happy venture, he bears upon him no less decidedly the traits of a very different ancestry. And he remains, and seems likely to remain, the last of the moderns whose affinity with the genius of the Elizabethan age enabled him to write, at one moment, in the "soluta oratio" the "linked sweet- ness long drawn out " of Jeremy Taylor ; and at another with the closely-blended wit and tenderness of the later Euphuists ; and in both so to write as one who was " to the manner born." "Hang the age!" exclaimed Lamb one day, when some Editor objected to his style as out of harmony with the taste of the day " Hang the age ! I will write for Antiquity !" And in a sense this re- mained always his habit. Even in the lightest and hastiest of his effusions some flavour of the antique, in metre or in manner, always clung to him. The attraction he felt for the Acrostic was clearly due to the circumstance that it was a favourite amusement of the Elizabethans, and it was really with a fond reminiscence of the metrical conceits " That so did take Eliza and our James," that he was always ready to enshrine in this manner the names of his young lady friends. I may be allowed to quote in this place a hitherto unprinted copy of album verses, kindly given me by Mrs. Augustus de Morgan, X INTRODUCTION. the daughter of Lamb's old acquaintance, the Rev. William Frend. Mrs. de Morgan then Miss Sophia Frend had set up an album, after the pleasant fashion of those days, and had applied to Lamb to write the introductory verses. The following was his response to the invitation, and I copy the verses from the original manuscript : TO THE BOOK. Little Casket ! Storehouse rare Of rich conceits to please the Fair ! Happiest he of mortal men (I crown him monarch of the pen) To whom Sophia deigns to give The flattering prerogative To inscribe his name in chief, On thy first and maiden Leaf. When thy pages shall be full With what brighter wits can cull Of the Tender or Romantic Creeping Prose, or Verse Gigantic Which thy spaces so shall cram That the Bee-like Epigram (Which a two-fold tribute brings, Honey gives at once, and stings) Hath not room left wherewithal To infix its tiny scrawl ; Haply some more youthful swain, Striving to describe his pain And the Damsel's ear to seize With more expressive lays than these, When he finds his own excluded And these counterfeits intruded, While, loitering in the Muses' bower He overstaid the eleventh hour Till the Tables filled shall fret, Die, or sicken with regret Or into a shadow pine : While this triumphant verse of mine Like to some favoured stranger-guest Bidden to a good man's Feast Shall sit by merit less than Fate In the upper Seat in State ! A trifle, evidently thrown off in haste, and more lax in the metre than is usual with him, but yet in cadence, in INTRODUCTION. XI the use of the parenthesis, in a certain charming effect of never-endingness, impregnate with the rhythm of him who wrote : Though sometime my song I raise To unused heights of praise (And brake forth as I shall please Into strange Hyperboles) 'Tis to shew conceit has found Worth beyond expression's bound. Though her breath I do compare To the sweet'st perfumes that are ; Or, her eies that are so bright To the morning's cheerefull light, Yet I doe it not so much To inferre that she is such ; As to shew that being blest With what merrits name of best, She appeares more faire to me Than all creatures else that be. Of the Prose included in this volume I have said all that seems necessary in the notes. All the Essays here given were written before 1818 that is to say, before any of the finest of the Elia Series. As I have elsewhere pointed out, Lamb's critical faculty ripened early, and the criticisms on the Elizabethan dramatists, and the two Papers on Hogarth and on Shakspere's Tragedies, are specimens of his faculty at its very highest. The comments on Shakspere's dramatic contemporaries have now been before the world since 1808, but there is much for the critic to learn from them still. In these days when ghastliness is the commonest resource of novelist and dramatist, and is accepted by so many readers as an evidence of power, it may be not unprofitable to read and digest Lamb's remark upon the secret of Webster, and the feebleness of would-be Websters "Inferior geniuses may 'upon horror's head horrors accumulate,' but they cannot do this. They mistake quantity for quality; they 'terrify babes with painted devils,' but they know not how a soul is to be moved. Their terrors want dignity their affrightments are without decorum." Xll INTRODUCTION. Nothing again can be finer and better worth saying than his comment on Fuller's vision of Wickliffe's ashes, dis- persed from the Avon to the Severn, and then into the narrow seas and into the main ocean, and so "all the world over": "I have seen this passage smiled at and set down as a quaint conceit of old Fuller. But what is not a conceit to those who read it in a temper different from that in which the writer composed it 1 The most pathetic parts of poetry to cold tempers seem and are nonsense, as divinity was to the Greeks foolishness. When Richard II., meditating on his own utter annihila- tion as to royalty, cries out, ' that I were a mockery king of snow To melt before the sun of Bolingbroke. ' "If we have been going on pace for pace with the passion before, this sudden conversion of a strong-felt metaphor into something to be actually realised in nature, like that of Jeremiah, ' Oh ! that my head were waters, and mine eye a fountain of tears,' is strictly and strikingly natural ; but come unprepared upon it, and it is a con- ceit ; and so is a ' head ' turned into ' waters.' " And Lamb might have foreseen certain aesthetic developments of seventy years later when he warned men, in his Essay on Hogarth, against " that disgust at common life, that tedium quotidianarum formarum, which an unrestricted passion for ideal forms and beauties is in danger of pro- ducing." Lastly, that sudden illuminating faculty, which belongs to Lamb above all other critics, is shewn in such a passage as that on Wither's Fourth Eclogue of the Shepherd's Hunting " The praises of Poetry have been often sung in ancient and in modern times ; strange powers have been ascribed to it of influence over animate and inanimate auditors ; its force over fascinated crowds has been acknowledged ; but, before Wither, no one ever celebrated its power at home, the wealth and the strength which this divine gift confers upon its possessor. Fame, and that too after death, was all which hitherto the poets INTRODUCTION. Xlll had promised themselves from their art. It seems to have been left to Wither to discover that poetry was a present possession, as well as a rich reversion ; and that the Muse had promise of both lives of this, and of that which is to come." It is as a critic that Lamb will be found at his best in this volume. The lighter humorous papers were written while yet the essay in his hands was only in process of moulding. He starts, as I have said, from the models freshest in his memory, the papers in the Tatler and Spectator, and in seeking to preserve their forms and turns of expression he is clearly hampered, though it does not prevent his striking out humorous fancies of rare quality. But, as yet, the humour is more that of Sterne and Swift than of the genuine Elian flavour. Swift might have imagined the man of enormous appetite, of whom it is explained that the disease was not in his family, but that his father "had a tedious custom of sitting long at his meals," and his mother " swallowed her victuals very fast," and that perhaps " he took after both." And Yorick himself would have been delighted to describe the sensations of the gentleman who had been hanged and then resuscitated, on meeting some years afterwards the public executioner wearing "a waistcoat that had been his." I have, as on former occasions, to thank many friends for information and assistance of varied kind. To Mr. A. C. Swinburne my acknowledgments are specially due for having allowed me to examine Lamb's manuscript annotations written in the interleaved copy of Wither, now in Mr. Swinburne's possession. I have also to thank Mr. W. S. Ayrton, of Saltburn-by-the-Sea, the son of Lamb's old friend, Mr. William Ayrton, the eminent musical critic, and (as before) the family of the late Mr. Arthur Loveday, for permission to quote from unpub- lished letters of Lamb's. June 1884. Jietitcatiott TO SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. (Prefixed to Lamb's Collected Works in 1818.) MY DEAR COLERIDGE You will smile to see the slender labours of your friend designated by the title of Works : but such was the wish of the gentlemen who have kindly under- taken the trouble of collecting them, and from their judgment could be no appeal. It would be a kind of disloyalty to offer to any one but yourself a volume containing the early pieces, which were first published among your poems, and were fairly deri- vatives from you and them. My friend Lloyd and myself came into our first battle (authorship is a sort of warfare) under cover of the greater Ajax. How this association, which shall always be a dear and proud recollection to me, came to be broken, who snapped the threefold cord, whether yourself (but I know that was not the case) grew ashamed of your former companions, or whether (which is by much the more probable) some ungracious bookseller was author of the separation, I cannot tell ; but wanting the support of your friendly elm (I speak for myself), my vine has, since that time, put forth few or no fruits ; the sap (if ever it had any) has become, in a manner, dried up and extinct : and you will find your old associate, in his second volume, dwindled into prose and criticism. XVI DEDICATION. Am I right in assuming this as the cause 1 or is it that, as years come upon us (except with some more healthy- happy spirits), life itself loses much of its poetry for us ? we transcribe but what we read in the great volume of Nature ; and, as the characters grow dim, we turn off, and look another way. You yourself write no Christabels, nor Ancient Mariners, now. Some of the Sonnets, which shall be carelessly turned over by the general reader, may happily awaken in you remembrances, which I should be sorry should be ever totally extinct the memory Of summer days and of delightful years even so far back as to those old suppers at our old * * * * Inn, when life was fresh, and topics exhaustless, and you first kindled in me, if not the power, yet the love of poetry, and beauty, and kindliness What words have I heard Spoke at the Mermaid ! The world has given you many a shrewd nip and gird since that time, but either my eyes are grown dimmer, or my old friend is the same, who stood before me three-and- twenty years ago his hair a little confessing the hand of time, but still shrouding the same capacious brain, his heart not altered, scarcely where it " alteration finds." One piece, Coleridge, I have ventured to pxiblish in its original form, though I have heard you complain of a certain over-imitation of the antique in the style. If I could see any way of getting rid of the objection, without rewriting it entirely, I would make some sacrifices. But when I wrote John Woodvil, I never proposed to myself any distinct deviation from common English. I had been newly initiated in the writings of our elder dramatists ; Beaumont and Fletcher, and Massinger, were then a, first 1 The Salutation and Cat, a tavern near Smithfield, where Lamb and Coleridge were fond of meeting in early days. DEDICATION. XV11 love ; and from what I was so freshly conversant in, what wonder if my language imperceptibly took a tinge 1 The very time, which I had chosen for my story, that which immediately followed the Restoration, seemed to require, in an English play, that the English should be of rather an older cast, than that of the precise year in which it happened to be written. I wish it had not some faults, which I can less vindicate than the language. I remain, My dear Coleridge, Yours, With unabated esteem, C. LAMB. CONTENTS. POEMS. PAGE SONNETS ' Was it some sweet device ' . . . .1 ' When last I roved ' . . . . .1 ' The Lord of Light shakes off ' . . .2 ' A timid grace sits trembling ' . . .2 ' We were two pretty babes ' ... 3 ' Methinks how dainty sweet it were ' . .3 ' If from my lips ' . . . . .4 ' Friend of my earliest years ' ... 4 ' 0, I could laugh to hear the midnight wind ' . 5 ' As when a child ' . . . . .5 To SARA AND HER SAMUEL .... 6 To THE POET COWPER ..... 7 CHILDHOOD ...... 7 THE GRANDAME ...... 8 THE SABBATH BELLS . . . . .9 FANCY EMPLOYED ON DIVINE SUBJECTS . . 9 THE TOMB OF DOUGLAS . . . . .10 To CHARLES LLOYD, AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR . .11 A VISION or REPENTANCE 13 XX CONTENTS. PAGE To CHARLES LLOYD . . . . .15 WRITTEN ON THE DAY OF MY AUNT'S FUNERAL . 16 WRITTEN A YEAR AFTER THE EVENTS . . .17 WRITTEN SOON AFTER. THE PRECEDING POEM . .19 WRITTEN ON CHRISTMAS DAY 1797 . . .20 THE OLD FAMILIAR FACES . . . .21 COMPOSED AT MIDNIGHT . . . . .22 LIVING WITHOUT GOD IN THE WORLD . . .23 JOHN WOODVIL (A Tragedy in Five Acts) . . 25 THE WITCH (A Dramatic Sketch of the Seventeenth Cen- tury) ....... 66 A BALLAD (Noting the difference of rich and poor) . 63 BALLAD (From the German) . . . .69 HESTER ....... 69 A FAREWELL TO TOBACCO . . . .70 LINES ON THE CELEBRATED PICTURE (By Leonardo da Vinci) ...... 75 THE THREE FRIENDS . . . . .75 To A RIVER IN WHICH A CHILD WAS DROWNED . . . 81 QUEEN ORIANA'S DREAM . . . . .82 ToT. L. H. A CHILD ... .83 To Miss KELLY . . . . . .84 ON THE SIGHT OF SWANS IN KENSINGTON GARDENS . 85 THE FAMILY NAME . . . . .85 To JOHN LAMB, ESQ., OF THE SOUTH-SEA HOUSE . 86 To MARTIN CHARLES BURNEY . . . .86 WRITTEN AT CAMBRIDGE ON THE IOTH AUGUST, 1819 . 87 To THE AUTHOR OF POEMS, PUBLISHED UNDER THE NAME OF BARRY CORNWALL . . . .87 SONNET : WORK .... 88 CONTENTS. XXI PAGE SONNET : LEISURE . . .83 To J. S. KNOWLES, ESQ. (On his Tragedy of Virginias) . 89 IN THE ALBUM OF LUCY BARTON . . .89 To THE EDITOR OF THE ' EVERY-DAY BOOK ' .90 THE YOUNG CATECHIST . . . . .91 ANGEL HELP . . . . . .92 ON AN INFANT DYING AS SOON AS BORN . . .93 THE CHRISTENING . . . . .95 IN THE ALBUM OF Miss . . . .96 THE GIPSY'S MALISON . . . . .90 IN THE ALBUM OF A CLERGYMAN'S LADY . . 97 IN THE AUTOGRAPH BOOK OF MRS. SERJEANT W . 97 IN THE ALBUM OF A VERY YOUNG LADY . . .98 IN THE ALBUM OF A FRENCH TEACHER . . .98 IN THE ALBUM OF Miss DAUBENY . . .99 IN THE ALBUM OF MRS. JANE TOWERS . . . 100 IN THE ALBUM OF CATHERINE ORKNEY . . . 100 IN MY OWN ALBUM ..... 101 To BERNARD BARTON ..... 102 SHE is GOING ...... 103 To A YOUNG FRIEND (On her twenty-first Birthday) . 103 To THE SAME . . . . . .104 HARMONY IN UNLIKENESS . . . .105 To A CELEBRATED FEMALE PERFORMER IN 'THE BLIND BOY' . . . . . .105 To SAMUEL ROGERS, ESQ. . . . 106 To CAROLINE MARIA APPLEBEE . . . .106 To CECILIA CATHERINE LAWTON .... 107 To A LADY WHO DESIRED ME TO WRITE HER EPITAPH . 108 ANOTHER (To her youngest Daughter) . . .108 XX11 CONTENTS. PAGE TRANSLATIONS. Trom the Latin of Vincent Bourne On a Sepulchral Statue of an Infant Sleeping . 109 The Rival Bells 109 Epitaph on a Dog ..... 109 The Ballad Singers . . . .110 To David Cook, of the Parish of St. Margaret's, "Westminster, Watchman . . .112 On a Deaf and Dumb Artist . . . .114 Newton's Principia . . . . .114 The Housekeeper . . . . .115 The Female Orators . . . . .115 PINDARIC ODE TO THE TREAD-MILL . . . 116 EPICEDIUM (Going or Gone) .... 119 THE WIFE'S TRIAL ; OR, THE INTRUDING WIDOW (A Dramatic Poem) . . . . .122 ' LIFT WITH REVERENT HAND ' . . . .150 IN THE ALBUM OF ROTHA QUILLINAX . . ,150 To DORA WORDSWORTH . . . . .151 IN THE ALBUM OF EDITH SOUTHEY . . . 151 THE SELF-ENCHANTED ..... 152 To A FRIEND, ON HIS MARRIAGE . . . 152 To LOUISA M . . . .153 FREE THOUGHTS ON SEVERAL EMINENT COMPOSERS . 154 To MARGARET W . . . . .155 PROSE. ROSAMUND GRAY . . . . . .157 CURIOUS FRAGMENTS (Extracted from a Common -place BOOK . . . . . . .197 HYPOCHONDRIACUS . 204 CONTENTS. xxiii PAGE RECOLLECTIONS OF CHRIST'S HOSPITAL . . . 206 ON THE TRAGEDIES OF SHAKSPERE . . . 220 CHARACTERS OF DRAMATIC WRITERS, CONTEMPORARY WITH SHAKSPERE ..... 241 SPECIMENS FROM THE WRITINGS OF FULLER . . 262 ON THE GENIUS AND CHARACTER OF HOGARTH . . 272 ON THE POETICAL WORKS OF GEORGE WITHER . . 295 THE LONDONER . . . . . .301 ON BURIAL SOCIETIES ; AND THE CHARACTER OF AN UNDERTAKER . . . . .304 ON THE DANGER OF CONFOUNDING MORAL WITH PER- SONAL DEFORMITY . . . . .311 ON THE INCONVENIENCES RESULTING FROM BEING HANGED . . . . . .319 ON THE MELANCHOLY OF TAILORS . . . 330 HOSPITA ON THE IMMODERATE INDULGENCE OF THE PLEASURES OF THE PALATE .... 335 EDAX ON APPETITE . . . 339 MR. H : A Farce . . . . .348 NOTES 377 POEM S. 1 WAS it some sweet device of Faery That mock'd my steps with many a lonely glade, And fancied wanderings with a fair-hair'd maid ? Have these things been 1 or what rare witchery, Impregning with delights the charmed air, Enlighted up the semblance of a smile In those fine eyes 1 methought they spake the while Soft soothing things, which might enforce despair To drop the murdering knife, and let go by His foul resolve. And does the lonely glade Still court the footsteps of the fair-hair'd maid 1 Still in her locks the gales of summer sigh ? While I forlorn do wander, reckless where, And 'mid my wanderings meet no Anna there. 1795. 2. WHEN last I roved these winding wood-walks green, Green winding walks, and shady pathways sweet, Ofttimes would Anna seek the silent scene, Shrouding her beauties in the lone retreat.