Still we haunt the greenwood for love of Rosalind,
Still we hear the Jester's bells ajingle on the wind,
Still the frenzied Moor we fear--Ah! and even yet
Breathless wait before the tomb of all the Capulet.

Though the slow years pass away, yet on land and sea,
Follow we the Danish Prince in sad soliloquy;
And I fancy sometimes when the round moon saileth high
Yet in Venice meet the Jew--as he goeth by.

(Just above the boxes and where the high lights fall
Looketh down a carven face from out the gilded wall.)




CHRISTMAS

With all the little children, far and near,
God wot! to-day we'll sing a song of cheer!
To rosy lips and eyes, that know not guile,
We one and all will give back smile for smile;
And for the sake of all the small and gay
We will be children also for to-day.

Holly we'll hang, with mistletoe above!
God wot! to-day we'll sing a song of love!
And we will trip on merry heel and toe
With all the fair who lightly come and go;
We will deny the years that lie behind