Poems you ought to know . the following year and wentto live at Grasmere in the lake district. He held several governmentpositions and was poet laureate from 1843 to his death. His chief worksare, The Evening Walk, Descriptive Sketches, The Excursion,White Doe of Rylston, Thanksgiving Ode, Peter Bell, Wag-goner, River Duddon, A Series of Sonnets, The Borderers, Yar-row Revisited, and The Prelude. A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by-One after one; the sound of rain, and beesMurmuring; the fall of rivers, winds and seas, Smooth fields, white sheets of water, and pure sky; Ive thought of all
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Poems you ought to know . the following year and wentto live at Grasmere in the lake district. He held several governmentpositions and was poet laureate from 1843 to his death. His chief worksare, The Evening Walk, Descriptive Sketches, The Excursion, White Doe of Rylston, Thanksgiving Ode, Peter Bell, Wag-goner, River Duddon, A Series of Sonnets, The Borderers, Yar-row Revisited, and The Prelude. A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by-One after one; the sound of rain, and beesMurmuring; the fall of rivers, winds and seas, Smooth fields, white sheets of water, and pure sky; Ive thought of all by turns, and still I lieSleepless; and soon the small birds melodiesMust hear, first utterd from my orchard trees. And the first cuckoos melancholy cry. Even thus last night and two nights more I lay.And could not win thee. Sleep, by any stealth; So do not let me wear tonight away; Without thee what is all the mornings wealth ? Come, blessed barrier between day and day. Dear mother of fresh thoughts and joyous health! 17. THE OLD FAMILIAR FACES. BY CHAKLES LAMB. Charles Lamb was born at London in 1775. His most successful writ-ings are the Tales from Shakespeare (written in collaboration withhis sister), and his Essays of Ella. Lamb died in 1834. I have had playmates, I have had companions, In my days of childhood, in my joyful school days-All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. I have been laughing, I have been carousing, Drinking late, sitting late, with my bosom cronies—All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. I loved a love once, fairest among women;Closed are her doors on me, I must not see her—All, all are gone the old familiar faces. I have a friend, a kinder friend has no man;Like an ingrate, I left my friend abruptly;Left him to muse on the old familiar faces. Ghost-like I pace round the haunts of my childhood, Earth seemed a desert I was bound to traverse, Seeking to find the old familiar faces. Friend of my bosom, thou more than a brother.Why wert not thou born