The Scholar poem
My days among the Deal are past;
Around me I behold,
Where’er these casual eyes are cast,
The might minds of old :
My never-failing friends are they,
With whom I converse day by day.
With them I take delight in weal,
And seek relief in woe;
And while I understand and feel,
How much to them I owe,
My cheeks have often been bedew’d,
With tears of thoughtful gratitude.
My thoughts are with the Dead; with them
I live in long-past year,
Their virtues love, their faults condemn
Partake their hopes and fears,
And from their lessons seek and find
Instruction with an humble mind.
My hopes are with the Deal; anon
My place with them will be,
And I with them shall travel on
Through all futurity;
Yes leaving here a name, I trust;
That will not perish in the dust.
-Robert Southey