"Me, poor man! my library
Was dukedom large enough."--SHAKSPEARE.
Farewell, my trusty leathern-coated friends!
'Tis fitting, for a while, that we should part;
For I, as duty points, must shape my ends,
Obey what reason bids, and not my heart.
What though 'tis mine to listen in that Hall
Where England's peers, "grave, rev'rend, potent," sit,
To hear the classic words of STANLEY fall,
BROUGHAM'S biting sarcasm, LYNDHURST'S polished wit,
The measur'd sentence of THE GREAT CALM DUKE--
It is not mine to commune with the men.
Not so when I unfold some favorite book,
CHAUCER and I grow boon companions then;
And SHAKSPEARE, deigning at my hearth to sit,
Charms me with mingled love, philosophy, and wit.