"Then, Leicester, why,-again I plead, When some fair Princess might be thing? "Why didst thou praise my humble charms, And O! then leave them to decay? Why didst thou win me to thy arms, Nor think a Countess can have woe. 16 Daily to pine and waste with care,1 "My spirits flag;17 my hopes decay; 13 repine, murmur. 15 them, should be "they." 1: flag, droop. 14 go, curtsey low to me as they pass. 16 care, sorrow. 18 boding, sign, The death-bell thrice was heard to ring; Is cheerful feast and sprightly ball: Have stories haunted Cumnor Hall. The village maids, with fearful glance, Among the groves of Cumnor Hall. 50 CHARACTER. GOOD name in men or women, Is the immediate jewel of their souls. Who steals my purse steals trash; tis something, nothing; 'Twas mine, tis his, and has been slave to thousands: But he that filches from me my good name, Robs me of that which not enriches him, And makes me poor indeed. 51 THE SOLDIER'S DREAM. UR bugles sang truce,'-for the nightcloud had lower'd,2 And the sentinel stars set their watch in the sky; And thousands had sunk on the ground overpower'd, The weary to sleep, and the wounded When reposing that night on my pallet of straw I flew to the pleasant fields traversed so oft In life's morning march, when my bosom was young; I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft, And knew the sweet strain that the corn-reapers sung. 8 Then pledged we the wine-cup, and fondly I swore From my home and my weeping friends never to part; My little ones kiss'd me a thousand times o'er, And my wife sobb'd aloud in her fulness of heart. 1 truce, an end to the fight, for the time. 2 lower'd, descended. 3 stars, the stars keeping their posts like sentinels. 4 reposing, sleeping. 5 pallet, bed. 7 fagot, wolves, that would have mangled them, were scared by lighted fires. array, marshalled order. 8 wine-cup, drank each other's health. "Stay-stay with us-rest-thou art worn!" weary and And fain was their war-broken soldier to stay; But sorrow return'd with the dawning of morn, And the voice in my dreaming ear melted away. THE sun does arise And make happy the skies; The merry bells ring To welcome the spring; The birds of the bush, To the bells' cheerful sound; Old John, with white hair, Sitting under the oak, They laugh at our play, 1 green, the village green. 1 THE ORPHAN CHILDREN. REACH'D the village on the plain, And climb'd the stile, and sat me there, Who in the churchyard sleeping were. There many a long, low grave I view'd, Where toil and want in quiet lie; And costly slabs amongst them stood, That bore the names of rich and high. One new-made mound I saw close by, O'er which the grasses hardly crept, Where, looking forth with listless eye, Two ragged children sat and wept. vane, weather-cock fixed above a spire or church tower. 2 listless, dull, heedless. |