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And I will set him in my uncle's eye
And Dora took the child, and went her way
not; for none of all his men
But when the morrow came, she rose and took The child once more, and sat upon the mound; And made a little wreath of all the flowers That grew about, and tied it round his hat To make him pleasing in her uncle's eye. Then when the farmer passed into the field He spied her, and he left his men at work, And came and said : “Where were you yesterday? Whose child is that? What are you doing here?” So Dora cast her eyes upon the ground, And answered softly: “ This is William's child !" “ And did I not,” said Allan, “ did I not Forbid you, Dora ?” Dora said again : “Do with me as you will, but take the child And bless him for the sake of him that's gone!” And Allan said: “I see it is a trick Got up betwixt you and the woman there. I must be taught my duty, and by you ! You knew my word was law, and yet you dared To slight it. Well—for I will take the boy ; But go you hence, and never see me more.
So saying, he took the boy, that cried aloud And struggled hard. The wreath of flowers fell At Dora's feet. She bowed upon her hands, And the boy's cry came to her from the field, More and more distant. She bowed down her head,
Remembering the day when first she came,
Then Dora went to Mary's house, and stood
that he will never see me more."
So the women kissed
let me call
With all men; for I asked him, and he said,
So Mary said, and Dora hid her face
I have been to blame-to blame! I have killed
I have killed him—but I loved him—my dear son !
Then they clung about
So those four abode Within one house together; and as years Went forward, Mary took another mate ; But Dora lived unmarried till her death.
" THE Bull, the Fleece are crammed, and not a
For love or money. Let us picnic there
I spoke, while Audley feast
Hummed like a hive all round the narrow quay,
And rounded by the stillness of the beach
We left the dying ebb that faintly lipped
There, on a slope of orchard, Francis laid A damask napkin wrought with horse and hound, Brought out a dusky loaf that smelt of home, And, half-cut-down, a pasty costly-made, Where quail and pigeon, lark and leveret lay, Like fossils of the rock, with golden yolks Imbedded and injellied; last, with these, A flask of cider from his father's vats, Prime, which I knew; and so we sat and eat And talked old matters over: who was dead, Who married, who was like to be, and how The races went, and who would rent the hall : Then touched upon the game, how scarce it was This season : glancing thence, discussed the farm, The fourfield system and the price of grain ; And struck upon the corn-laws, where we split, And ame again together on the king With heated faces; till he laughed aloud ; And, while the blackbird on the pippin hung To hear him, clapt his hand in mine and sang“O! who would fight and march and counter
march, Be shot for sixpence in a battle-field,
And shovelled up into a bloody trench
“ (! who would cast and balance at a desk,
“ Who'd serve the state ? for if I carved my name
“ 0! who would love? I wooed a woman once, But she was sharper than an eastern wind, And all my heart turned from her, as a thorn Turns from the sea: but let me live my life.” He sang his
song, and I replied with mine: I found it in a volume, all of songs, Knocked down to me, when old Sir Robert's pride, His books—the more the pity, so I saidCame to the hammer here in March-and this I set the words, and added names I knew.
Sleep, Ellen Aubrey, sleep, and dream of me: Sleep, Ellen, folded in thy sister's arm, And sleeping, haply dream her arm is mine.
Sleep, Ellen, folded in Emilia’s arm; Emilia, fairer than all else but thou, For thou art fairer than all else that is. Sleep, breathing health and peace upon her
breast : Sleep, breathing love and trust against her lip: I go to-night: I come to-morrow morn.
" I go, but I return: I would I were
So sang we each to either, Francis Hate,