^4 A SCENE IN ENGLAND. 



So my heart is stirred with feeling 

 As the silver light is stealing 

 On the stately towers and battlements that meet me as I 

 gaze ; 

 And the future years seem brighter 

 For the good Queen's work, and lighter 

 Seems the struggle for existence in the dark and crowded 

 ways. 



Then I turn my steps, ascending 

 Where the dusky road is bending ; 



And I loiter on the causeway, where I ponder for awhile ; 

 And I hear a " Gently, Speedy," 

 As the hounds, so smart and breedy, 



Come upon me in the twilight as I stand beside the stile. 



Fainter, fainter, I can hear them, 



With the horsemen jogging near them. 

 Fainter, fainter is the music of their feet upon the way ; 



And my better heart rejoices 



As I hear those merry voices 

 As they join in bright discussion on the merits of the day 



So it goes, and softly creeping 

 Fall the shadows on the sleeping 



