"O! who would cast and balance at a desk, Perched like a crow upon a three-legged stool, Till all his juice is dried, and all his joints Are full of chalk? but let me live my life. "Who'd serve the state? for if I carved my name Upon the cliffs that guard my native land, The sea wastes all: but let me live my life. "O! 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 said— Came to the hammer here in March—and this I set the words, and added names I knew. 66 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 The pilot of the darkness and the dream. Did what I would; but ere the night we rose The limit of the hills; and as we sank The town was hushed beneath us: lower down Dipt by itself, and we were glad at heart. WALKING TO THE MAIL. John. I'm glad I walked. How fresh the meadows look Above the river, and, but a month ago, The whole hill-side was redder than a fox. Is yon plantation where this byway joins The turnpike? James. Yes. John. And when does this come by? James. The mail? At one o'clock. John. What is it now? James. A quarter to. John. Whose house is that I see Beyond the watermills? James. Sir Edward Head's: But he's abroad: the place is to be sold. John. O, his. He was not broken. James. No sir, he, Vexed with a morbid devil in his blood That veiled the world with jaundice, hid his face From all men, and commercing with himself, He lost the sense that handles daily life James. Nay, who knows? he's here and there But let him As well as with his tenant, Jocky Dawes, James. You saw the man but yesterday: "What! Sets forth, and meets a friend who hails him, You 're flitting!" "Yes, we 're flitting," says the ghost, (For they had packed the thing among the beds.) "O well," says he, "you flitting with us tooJack, turn the horses' heads and home again." John. He left his wife behind; for so I heard. James. He left her, yes. I met my lady once: A woman like a butt, and harsh as crabs. John. O yet but I remember, ten years back— 'Tis now at least ten years—and then she was You could not light upon a sweeter thing: A body slight and round, and like a pear As clean and white as privet when it flowers. James. Ay, ay, the blossom fades, and they that loved Out of her sphere. What betwixt shame and pride, Like men, like manners: like breeds like, they say. That fit us like a nature second-hand; Which are indeed the manners of the great. John. But I had heard it was this bill that past, I once was near him when his bailiff brought |