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mightye. Jesu preserve with your good remembering the circumstance that gave Jordstip. From hermerduyn, the last rise to it, he was forcibly struck with the of March.

idea of its being an indirect intiination of Yor lordeships tu crimand, approaching assassination, and in order W. MEN EVEN.

to escape Cæsar's fate after due delibe.

ration with his tried and steady friends, It is related of aston, cari of Portland, he allicied indisposition, ordered his treasurer to Charles I. tl:at having been gates to be closed, and allowed only the much importuned in procure the revere lavoured few to be admitted. Guards siou of an ottice for the son of sir Jiolinis also were placed about his house, lest a Cæsar; the friend of the lacier, in order violent assault should be made upon it to insure his attention to the aitair, wrote in the night. This allair was at length on a slip of paper, “ remember Cæser." inade public, and on an explanation This, on being presented to the treasurer, taking place between the movie trtawas casually put into bis pocket, and he surer and the patron of Mr. Cæsar, a was too much of a courrier ever to think general laugh was raised at the ridiculous of the inatter again. A short period, point of view in which the timid and however, only elapsed, before accident irresolute conduct of the lord treasurer brought this paper again to view. Not had placed him.

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The last on Laura's grave was shed,

And there, ere long, this aching head
LO! from yon hoary, time-worn fane,

in Deaih's cold lap shail lie.
Once more proceeds the last sad struin,
To parted mortals giv'n.

Dread tyrant! one fell shaft from tlice,
Hail, solemn bell, thy accents drear

For ever tix'd my destiny,
Break like soft music on my ear,

And robb'd my soul of bliss.
And seem to point lo heav’n.

My tond, my dove-like maid is gone:
Such are the gloomy sounds I love,

And thou, O parent earth! alone,
As, sunk in silent grit', i rove

Can'st yield this bosom peace.
Those speaking stones among;

I mark' her rose of life go w pale,
And think, while oft with ling'ring tread

And endless slumber's shadowy veil
I pace my Laura's peaceful bed,

Her languid orbs o'ercast;
My knell will soon be rung.

And while in ceaseless, fruitless praying
Pe still, my soul : er'n now some breast I wearied hear'n, my saint to spare,
diay find perhaps a long-wish'd rest,

She kias'd, and beach'd her last.
From torments great as thine.
Thrice happy shade, these tones of woe

I caught, as faint it died away,
Pierce not the tranquil house below : Her latest sizh, and sought to stay
On! would thy doom were mine.

Her spirit on its flight;
The funerai comes : and see, in state.

And press á her chill damp lips to mine ;

And frantic cursid that hand divine
Moves onward to that friendly gate,

Which clos'd her eyes in night.
Whose portals ope to all ;
While mark, as every passing gale

I saw her chaste unspotted clay
Bears from the spire the dismal tale,

Enhears d, and pass in black array,
The gushing anguish fall.

Slow, on the church-yard road:
Weep on, ye mourners, wet the bier

And went and beats the burial rile;
With kindly drops, and scatter there

And gaz'l, till lost alas ! to sight,
The earliest flow'rs that bloom;

She fill'd her dark abode.
So shall remembrance, when you slep,
Bathe with soft dews the verdanc heap,

Thon too, fate's help-mate, true to trust,
And roses deck your tomb.

I saw heap high the hallow'a dust,

And raise the 12:row mound;
I cannot weep, for ah! to me

And heard the parting requiem tolll,
That sober, solemn luxury,

And, deep'ning as its echoes rollid,
My cruel fate denies :

O'er vaulted earth resound,
No more pure sympathy's clear tide
Down these uncrimson'd checks shall Oh, ofc invok'd, and envious pow'r, .

Yet fond, in fortune's dawning hour,
Or glitter in these eyes.

The ready stroke to give !
These founts are dry, which us’d to pour

Why, on the happy, and the gv,
At pity's call the plentcuus show'r,

Dost thou still urge thy fatetui sway,
And not uns tear supply:

And leav'st the wretch to live?

Blue 356

Original Poetry.

(May 1,

But cease, my heart, this mournful tone; Rode a knight athwart the more
LU! from the tomb is comfort shewn,

From Armorique, come to see
Ev'n Death is kind at last;

Arthur, pride of chivalrie.
He comes ; and soon from mis'ry free,
Yon warning knell, unheard by me,

Loud the storm and black the night,
Shall swell the sweeping blast.

And his horse in weary plight ;,

He beheld a distant gleam As yet, my seraph's grave is new;

Thro a castel.windore beam; Nor winter's rain, nor summer's dew,

Much the loftie elmies swang Have cloth'd the sod with green;

As between their rowes he hight, Nor has the snow-drop, flow'r of spring,

Wile the blaste's hollowe twang
Meek Nature's virgin offering,

Round the rocking towrets sang.
Been on its surface seen.
Nor yet, at her unconscious head,

To the cullis.gate he rode
The humble monument is laid,

Knock'd aloud the wile he stode Which bears lier sacred name :

Chatierde much his teeth for cold; It waits till mine, engraven there,

Frost and sleet had bleachde the wold: Shall ask for two the generous tear

Trussie knaves anon were seene, Which sorrow's victims claim.

They his palfrey tooke and stowie, Then, while our blended dust decays,

Leeding him by torchie's sheene Round the low ridge, with pitying gaze,

To the prow sir Egerwene. The village muse shall stray,

Inne the base-court him doche meete And pluck th' intrusive weeds that grow, The nobile hoste with friendlie greete, And weeping, as her numbers flow,

As a heartie Briton wones : A pensive tribute pay.

“ Welcome stranger for the nones, Oft too the stranger, wand'ring by,

Lo, thie bearde doth sheene with ise, O'er the plain stone shall pause and sigh, " And thie band is numb of sleele, And dwell with humid eyes ;

.6. Herse has beene thie wynter-ryse, And note the epitaph, and think

“ Foode and rest I shul alyse." How weak life's closest, tend'rest link, How slender earthly ties.

Then he leades the frozen wight

Where the chemnee brenneth bright, All this shall fail, and on that stone

Down the hall so high and long Mould'ring with age, with moss o'srgrown,

His forefathers weapons hong The long rank grass shall wave;

Yron sarkes in blacke arraye. Unknown whose reliques rest below,

There I weene at dead of night And scarce a vestige left to show

When the reddie gledes decaye
The place once bloom'd a grave.

Yerne the owners gbosties strage.
I. U.

Soone the slughornes calle to mele,

And the knighties tope their fele,

But at ones their glee is farre, AH! will those hours again return,

For a dore doth sofce unbarre, My joy, iny bliss to prove;

And a woman wo.forworne Or must this heart for ever mourn

Whom the blackest weder concele, The object of its love?

Slowlie steppeth tliem beforne, Far o'er yon hills, in distant lands,

Bare her bowed head and shorne. My thoughts with fondness rove;

She was wan, but fayre to see Far o'er those hills I send niy sighs,

As the moone at full may be, To one I dearly love.

Yet did paleness gryse and glome At evening's close, at parting day,

Ore the stonied stranger come, I watch the sun.beam move,

From his hand the bumper fell; That seeks the land so far away,

For he loukte to see her gree Where dwells my dearest love. W.G.

Soone an uglie spryte of hell

Rysing from his dysmal cell.

More and more she draweth nic,
From ibe German of C. L, STOLBERG, and in Speakerh not, but sitsomelie
tbe Metre of the original Poem.

Cometh to their plenteous borde

Whyche doth onelie bredde afforde
INNE the better dayes of yore

For her much-forbidden lip,
Wile twas sinne for men to whore,
And a woman might ne straye

To the vassal standing bie - Ens a hair.breadth from the waye

Then she noddes, that be shuld trip Of ylallowed chastitie,

For she needeth drink to sip.

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Lo, he seeketh out a skulle,

Downe a narrow grese they stray, Rinsed it and filled it fulle

Dank and dymme theire winding way. of the water from the spring,

" Is it to a toome we go ?And with pireous gait did bring.

Spake the faultring stranger tho.
Meeklie then her face she lowte;

" What! doth feare alreadie cling Inne her eyne a teare upswille,

To thy brest ?" the knight did say:
And she shodderde, stared abowte,

« Harke, I heare her gittero ring; Drank her draught, and totterd oute. Hymnes of penaunce she doth sing.". " I beswear thee, tell me, man,"

Deeper down the vault so cold, So the stranger-knight began,

Buch the knights in silence strolld: " What this woman's sin hath beene,

Suddenlie sir Egerwene
That thou lodest her with teene;

Op'd a door, and she was seene,
Or her teares the silent prayre

Bye a single lampis feare,
Cansthou from thie bosom bars?

Sitting in a dungeon-hold :
She is as an aungel fayre,

On her eye-lash blinks the cleare
Meeke and milde as children are."

Halie God-atoning teare. “ Stranger, she is fayre I knowe,

" Bitter, bitter is her wo," Ones did I her seeming trowe,

Saith the guest as in they go.
Hong delighted on her loke,

Sternlie frown'd his British guide,
Thrillde for pleasaunce when she spoke, And advancing to her side
And her honeyde wordes beleevde.

Op'd a grate with soddeyne tone,
Woman's bosom who can knowe?

And begun therein to sho
All her winsome lokes deceevde,

Wher against the mildewed stone
Were in falsehood's loon yweevde.

Stood a headless skeletone. « For her love was givn and gone

Then he spake, “Behold the man To a squire that here did wone,

Who this woman's lyking wan; Whom from dole and dertbe I drewe,

Who by his advowtrous game,
And upbred in gentil thewe.

Brought his master's bed to shame.
After wearie warre was owre,

Now I ween she shuld not shrink
Homeward ones I spedde alone,

Him from near her side to ban :
Anci at unawayted howre

From his sighte she may not slink,
Hastende to my wed-bed bowre.

And his skull doth hold her drink.". "Lo, her syghte mie eyne dismayde, Ere they left the dismal cell, Inne the clasp of ewbrice layde,

Did the stranger wish her well, With che squire of lowe degree;

And a pardon for the sin
Boiling did my anger gree.

She bewailed cher within.
Swyice mie righteous ?worde I toke,

Then she spake with gentle moane
And his pulse of life I quayde :

Thro her lippes so swole and pale :
Her I weened to have stroke

“ Yeares may not my guilt atone,
Wile mie sowle for choler quoke.

Rigliteouslie mye lord hath done." “ Botte forthwyth she did her throw Now they sought their roomes: til daye At mie feete, ard to the blow

Sleepless did the traveller laye, Layde her paler bosom bare.

The remembrance of her sight Ruthful shudders thro me fare,

Haunted him the livelong night; And the shape of helle was come

How she by the lamp so wan Full of harowe to mie brow.

Wept and

preeres did

saye. No, methought; I may ne dome

Chilly sweats him overran, Her to the ycorsed home.

Thoughts of anguish him unman. “ And I spake : Thou shalt, beldame, Ere the golden howre of dawn, Pay the finaunce of mie shame,

On had he his armure trawn; Al it be thie life I spare :

Parting, to his host he sayd : Tho the fiend chy sprite shuld tare,

" Til thy wife in earth be layd, What have I to winne therbye?

Thro the sorrow undergone
No: with prayre, and teare, and grame, Leave her not in thraldlom's pawn;

Thou mayst earne chie peace on hye : I have nere a woman knone,
I rallent not til I dye.

Half so fair and wo.begone." " Then her hedde I shavde and shore, And at lengeh her gentle guise, Toke the gaudes and gems she wore,

And her patient peaceful wise, Clad her lymbes in mourning weede,

Won sir Egerwene to ruch: Of her weeping had no heede;

He forgave her sad untruth. Woes enow I make her beare.

Heeded now his threat no more, Wilt thou knowe her painsome stoure, No forgiveness to alyse;

From her lippes thou mayst it heare, Joyed with her as of yore,

Cheere thie spright and follow acare." Many worthy sons she bore. MONTHLY MAG. No. 198.

2 Z


[ 358 ]

May 1,


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