“ And, smoking in silence with tranquil delight,
They listen'd to hear the wind roar.
''Tis pleasant,' cried one, 'seated by the fireside
To hear the wind whistle without.'
'What a night for the Abbey!' his comrade replied,
'Methinks a man's courage would now be well tried,
Who should wander the ruins about.
'I myself, like a schoolboy, should tremble to hear
The hoarse ivy shake over my head;
And could fancy I saw, half persuaded by fear,
Some ugly old abbot's grim spirit appear,
For this wind might awaken the dead!' ”

“ Now shall the sandy bar be cross'd, now shall we find the bay!
The sea-gull shrieks high overhead, and dimly to our sight
The moonlit crests of foaming waves gleam towering through the night.
We'll steal upon the mermaid soon, and start her from her lay,
When once the sandy bar is cross'd, and we are in the bay.
What rises white and awful as a shroud-enfolded ghost?
What roar of rampant tumult bursts in clangour on the coast?
Pull back! pull back! The raging flood sweeps every oar away.
O stream, is this thy bar of sand? O boat, is this the bay? ”

“ Three times, all in the dead of night,
A bell was heard to ring;
And shrieking at the window thrice,
The raven flapp'd his wing.
Too well the love-lorn maiden knew
The solemn boding sound;
And thus, in dying words bespoke,
The virgins weeping round:
'I hear a voice you cannot hear,
Which says I must not stay;
I see a hand you cannot see,
Which beckons me away.
By a false heart and broken vows,
In early youth I die:
Was I to blame, because his bride
Was thrice as rich as I? ”

“ Besets me now awake!
Again, again, with a dizzy brain,
The human life I take;
And my red right hand grows raging hot,
Like Cranmer's at the stake.
'And still no peace for the restless clay
Will wave or mould allow;
The horrid thing pursues my soul—
It stands before me now!'
The fearful boy looked up and saw
Huge drops upon his brow!
That very night, while gentle sleep
The urchin eyelids kiss'd,
Two stern-faced men set out from Lynn,
Through the cold and heavy mist;
And Eugene Aram walk'd between,
With gyves upon his wrist. ”

“ Our glorious SEMPER EADEM, the banner of our pride.
The freshening breeze of eve unfurled that banner's massy fold,
[Pg 72] The parting gleam of sunshine kissed that haughty scroll of gold;
Night sank upon the dusky beach, and on the purple sea,—
Such night in England ne'er had been, nor ne'er again shall be.
From Eddystone to Berwick bounds, from Lynn to Milford Bay,
That time of slumber was as bright and busy as the day;
For swift to east and swift to west the ghastly war-flame spread;
High on St. Michael's Mount it shone: it shone on Beachy Head. ”

“ Little Ellie sits alone,
And the smile she softly useth
Fills the silence like a speech:
While she thinks what shall be done,
And the sweetest pleasure chooseth
For her future, within reach.
Little Ellie in her smile
Chooseth—'I will have a lover,
Riding on a steed of steeds!
He shall love me without guile;
And to him I will discover
That swan's nest among the reeds.
'And the steed it shall be red-roan,
And the lover shall be noble,
With an eye that takes the breath,
And the lute he plays upon
Shall strike ladies into trouble,
As his sword strikes men to death. ”

“ Last night the sun went pale to bed,
The moon in halos hid her head;
The boding shepherd heaves a sigh,
For, see, a rainbow spans the sky:
The walls are damp, the ditches smell,
Closed is the pink-eyed pimpernel.
Hark how the chairs and tables crack!
Old Betty's joints are on the rack;
Loud quack the ducks, the peacocks cry,
The distant hills are seeming nigh.
How restless are the snorting swine;
The busy flies disturb the kine;
Low o'er the grass the swallow wings,
The cricket too, how sharp he sings;
Puss on the hearth, with velvet paws,
Sits wiping o'er her whiskered jaws. ”

“ XI LUCY GRAY Or Solitude
Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray:
And, when I crossed the wild,
I chanced to see at break of day
The solitary child.
No mate, no comrade Lucy knew;
She dwelt on a wide moor,
—The sweetest thing that ever grew
Beside a human door!
You yet may spy the fawn at play,
The hare upon the green;
But the sweet face of Lucy Gray
Will never more be seen.
'To-night will be a stormy night—
You to the town must go;
[Pg 14] And take a lantern, child, to light
Your mother through the snow.'
'That, Father, will I gladly do! ”

“ Black his hair as the winter night,
White his neck as summer snow,
Ruddy his face as the morning light,
Cold he lies in the grave below.
[Pg 240] My love is dead,
Gone to his death-bed,
All under the willow-tree.
Sweet his tongue as throstle's note,
Quick in dance as thought can be;
Deft his tabor, cudgel stout;
O, he lies by the willow-tree!
My love is dead,
Gone to his death-bed,
All under the willow-tree.
Hark! the raven flaps his wing
In the brier'd dell below;
Hark! the death-owl loud doth sing
To the night-mares as they go. ”

“ Bishop Hatto he made fast the door;
And while for mercy on Christ they call,
He set fire to the barn and burnt them all.
'I' faith, 'tis an excellent bonfire!' quoth he,
'And the country is greatly obliged to me,
For ridding it in these times forlorn
Of rats, that only consume the corn.'
So then to his palace returned he,
And he sat down to supper merrily,
And he slept that night like an innocent man,
But Bishop Hatto never slept again. ”

“ And if he will not take thee back again,
Then thou and I will live within one house,
And work for William's child until he grows
Of age to help us.'
So the women kiss'd
Each other, and set out and reach'd the farm.
The door was off the latch; they peep'd and saw
The boy set up betwixt his grandsire's knees,
Who thrust him in the hollows of his arm,
And clapt him on the hands and on the cheeks,
Like one that loved him: and the lad stretch'd out
And babbled for the golden seal that hung
From Allan's watch, and sparkled by the fire. ”

“ To row us o'er the ferry.'
'Now who be ye, would cross Lochgyle,
This dark and stormy water?'
'O, I'm the chief of Ulva's isle,
And this Lord Ullin's daughter.
'And fast before her father's men
Three days we've fled together,
For should he find us in the glen,
My blood would stain the heather.
'His horsemen hard behind us ride;
Should they our steps discover,
Then who will cheer my bonny bride
When they have slain her lover?'
Out spoke the hardy Highland wight,
'I'll go, my chief, I'm ready;
It is not for your silver bright;
But for your winsome lady:
'And by my word! ”

“ Sir Walter, restless as a veering wind,
Calls to the few tired dogs that yet remain;
Blanche, Swift, and Music, noblest of their kind,
Follow, and up the weary mountain strain.
The Knight halloed, he cheered and chid them on
With suppliant gestures and upbraidings stern;
But breath and eyesight fail; and, one by one,
The dogs are stretched among the mountain fern.
Where is the throng, the tumult of the race?
The bugles that so joyfully were blown?
This chase, it looks not like an earthly chase:
Sir Walter and the Hart are left alone.
The poor Hart toils along the mountain-side ”

“ We die,
As your hours do; and dry
Away
Like to the summer's rain,
Or as the pearls of morning dew,
Ne'er to be found again.
R. Herrick
CIII THE HOMES OF ENGLAND
The stately homes of England!
How beautiful they stand,
Amidst their tall ancestral trees,
O'er all the pleasant land!
The deer across their greensward bound
Through shade and sunny gleam;
And the swan glides by them with the sound
Of some rejoicing stream.
[Pg 209] The merry homes of England!
Around their hearths by night,
What gladsome looks of household love
Meet in the ruddy light! ”

“ Thy rest at home shall be
In England's sweet and pleasant isle;
For travel fits not thee.
[Pg 231] My Rose shall safely here abide,
With music pass the day;
Whilst I, among the piercing pikes,
My foes seek far away.
And you, Sir Thomas, whom I trust
To be my love's defence;
Be careful of my gallant Rose
When I am parted hence.'
And therewithal he fetch'd a sigh
As though his heart would break:
And Rosamund, for very grief,
Not one plain word could speak.
And at their parting well they might
In heart be grieved sore:
After that day fair Rosamund
The king did see no more. ”

“ How fleet is a glance of the mind!
Compar'd with the speed of its flight,
The tempest himself lags behind
And the swift-winged arrows of light.
When I think of my own native land,
In a moment I seem to be there;
But, alas! recollection at hand
Soon hurries me back to despair.
But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest,
The beast is laid down in his lair;
Even here is a season of rest,
And I to my cabin repair.
There's mercy in every place,
And mercy, encouraging thought,
Gives even affliction a grace,
And reconciles man to his lot. ”

“ Sir Walter wiped his face and cried, 'Till now
Such sight was never seen by human eyes;
Three leaps have borne him from this lofty brow,
Down to the very fountain where he lies.
'I'll build a pleasure house upon this spot,
And a small arbour made for rural joy;
'Twill be the traveller's shed, the pilgrim's cot,
A place of love for damsels that are coy.
'A cunning artist will I have to frame
A basin for that fountain in the dell!
And they who do make mention of the same,
From this day forth shall call it Hart Leap Well. ”

“ The Wildgrave spurr'd his ardent steed,
And, launching forward with a bound,
'Who, for thy drowsy priestlike rede,
Would leave the jovial horn and hound?
'Hence, if our manly sport offend!
With pious fools go chant and pray;
Well hast thou spoke, my dark-brow'd friend
Halloo, halloo! and, hark away!'
The Wildgrave spurr'd his courser light,
O'er moss and moor, o'er holt and hill;
And on the left and on the right,
Each stranger horseman follow'd still.
Up springs from yonder tangled thorn
A stag more white than mountain snow ”

“ Her march is o'er the mountain-waves,
Her home is on the deep.
With thunders from her native oak,
She quells the floods below,
As they roar on the shore,
When the stormy winds do blow;
When the battle rages loud and long,
And the stormy winds do blow.
The meteor flag of England
Shall yet terrific burn;
Till danger's troubled night depart,
And the star of peace return. ”

“ Whereby my poor heart is slain.'
'What is thy name?' then said Robin Hood,
'Come tell me without any fail:'
'By the faith of my body,' then said the young man,
'My name it is Allin a Dale.'
'What wilt thou give me?' said Robin Hood,
'In ready gold or fee,
To help thee to thy true love again,
And deliver her unto thee?'
'I have no money,' then quoth the young man,
'No ready gold nor fee,
But I will swear upon a book
Thy true servant for to be.'
'How many miles is it to thy true love? ”

“ And as the night grew drearer,
Adown the glen rode armed men,
Their trampling sounded nearer.
'O haste thee, haste!' the lady cries,
'Though tempests round us gather;
I'll meet the raging of the skies,
But not an angry father.'
The boat has left the stormy land,
A stormy sea before her,—
When, oh! too strong for human hand
The tempest gathered o'er her.
And still they row'd amidst the roar
Of waters fast prevailing:
Lord Ullin reach'd that fatal shore ”

“ This heart within me burns.
"I pass, like night, from land to land;
I have strange power of speech;
That moment that his face I see,
I know the man that must hear me:
To him my tale I teach.
"What loud uproar bursts from that door!
The wedding-guests are there:
But in the garden-bower the bride
[Pg 67] And bride-maids singing are:
And hark the little vesper bell,
Which biddeth me to prayer!
"O sweeter than the marriage-feast,
'Tis sweeter far to me,
To walk together to the kirk
With a goodly company! ”

“ Like a loose casement in the wind.
And Harry's flesh it fell away;
And all who see him say 'tis plain,
That live as long as live he may,
He never will be warm again.
No word to any man he utters,
A-bed or up, to young or old;
But ever to himself he mutters,
'Poor Harry Gill is very cold!'
A-bed or up, by night or day,
His teeth they chatter, chatter still.
Now think, ye farmers all, I pray,
Of Goody Blake and Harry Gill! ”

“ Hovering o'er the wanton face
[Pg 124] Of these pastures, where they come
Striking dead both bud and bloom.
Therefore from such danger lock
Every one of his loved flock;
And let your dogs lie loose without,
Lest the wolf come, as a scout
From the mountain, and ere day
Bear a kid or lamb away;
Or the crafty, thievish fox
Break upon your simple flocks.
To secure yourselves from these,
Be not too secure in ease.
So shall you good shepherds prove,
And deserve your master's love.
Now, good night! may sweetest slumbers
And soft silence fall in numbers
On your eyelids: so, farewell ”

“ Through all the wide Border his steed is the best;
And save his good broadsword he weapon had none;
He rode all unarm'd and he rode all alone.
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,
There never was knight like the young Lochinvar!
He stay'd not for brake and he stopt not for stone ”

“ See a hare before him started!
—Off they fly in earnest chase;
Every dog is eager-hearted,
All the four are in the race!
And the hare whom they pursue
Knows from instinct what to do;
Her hope is near, no turn she makes;
But like an arrow to the river takes.
Deep the river was and crusted
Thinly by a one night's frost ”