Our very hopes belied our fears, Our fears our hopes belied; We thought her dying when she slept, And sleeping when she died.

She stood breast-high amid the corn Clasp'd by the golden light of morn, Like the sweetheart of the sun, Who many a glowing kiss had won.

Our very hopes belied our fears, Our fears our hopes belied; We thought her dying when she slept, And sleeping when she died.

There is a silence where hath been no sound, There is a silence where no sound may be,- In the cold grave, under the deep, deep sea, Or in the wide desert where no life is found.

How bravely Autumn paints upon the sky The gorgeous fame of Summer which is fled!

Boughs are daily rifled By the gusty thieves, And the book of Nature Getteth short of leaves.

There are three things which the public will always clamour for, sooner or later; namely: novelty, novelty, novelty.