292 SELECT PORTRY

Now, venturing once to ask her why,!
She answered with invective ;

And pointed as she made reply,
Towards that long perspective

Of years to come, in distant blue,
Wherein she meant to live and do

« Mas!” says she, “how hard you toil,
With undiverted sadness !
Behold yon land of wine and oil—
Those sunny hills of gladness
Those joys I wait with eager brow;”—
“ And so you always will,” said Now.

* That fairy land that looks so real,
Recedes as you pursue it;
Thus while you wait for times ideal,
I take my work and do it;
Intent to form, when time is gone,
A pleasant past to look upon,”

‘ Ah well,” said THEN, “I envy not
Your dull fatiguing labours;
Aspiring to a brighter lot,
With thousands of my neighbours ;
Soon as I reach that golden hill”—
«¢ But that,” says Now, “you never will.”

And e’en suppose you should,” said she,
«¢ (Though mortal ne’er attained it,)

1 To ask her why—that is, to ask her why she waited for
the fruits and flowers of the future, instead of enjoying the
present.