Next day came the Master Thief and asked for the Squire's daughter as he had promised; and then the Squire dared not do anything else than give her to him, and a good lump of money into the bargain; for, to tell the truth, he was afraid lest the Master Thief should steal the eyes out of his head, and that people would begin to say spiteful things of him if he broke his word. So the Master Thief lived well and happily from that time forward. I don't know whether he stole any more; but if he did, I am quite sure it was only for the sake of a bit of fun.
"I perceive that there is nothing better than that a man should rejoice in his own works, for that is his portion."--_Eccles._ iii. 22.
Sigh thou not for a happier lot, Happier may never be; That thou hast esteem the best, And given by the gods to thee. And if thy tender hopes be slain, Fear not, they soon shall bloom again; For the gloomiest hour Is fair to the flower That heeds neither wind nor rain.
Fear of change from old to strange Follows the fullest joy; Labour wears us more than years; Calms, never broken, cloy. Whatever load to thee be given, Doubt not thy brethren too have striven; Take what is thine In the Earth's confine, And hope to be blest in Heaven.
Led by swift thought, I scale the height, And strive to sound the deep, To find from whence I took my flight, Or where I slept my sleep: But the mists conceal that border-land Whose hills they rest upon; Again, with forward face, I stand, For Gone is gone.
Sometimes I brood upon the years I gave to self and sin; Or call to mind how Doubts and Fears Fled from a light within: I might regret those errors past, Might wish the light still shone, Or check Life's tide that ebbs so fast; But Gone is gone.
You, too, my loyal-hearted wife, Saw many a weary day, When, on your morning-sky of life, The clouds of sorrow lay. True friends departed--grief for them, Joy for the False made known, And over all this Requiem, That Gone is gone.
The glare of many a spectral Truth Might haunt me still unchanged, The broken purpose of my Youth, The loving hearts estranged. But, turning to your love-lit eyes, --The love-lit eyes shine on-- I thank my God with happy sighs That Gone is gone.