She replies, in accents fainter,

'There is none I love like thee.'
He is but a landscape-painter,
And a village maiden she.
He to lips, that fondly falter,
Presses his without reproof:
Leads her to the village altar,

And they leave her father's roof. 'I can make no marriage present: Little can I give my wife.

Love will make our cottage pleasant,
And I love thee more than life.'
They by parks and lodges going

See the lordly castles stand :
Summer woods, about them blowing,
Made a murmur in the land.
From deep thought himself he rouses,
Says to her that loves him well,
'Let us see these handsome houses
Where the wealthy nobles dwell.'
So she goes by him attended,

Hears him lovingly converse,
Sees whatever fair and splendid

Lay betwixt his home and hers; Parks with oak and chestnut shady,

Parks and order'd gardens great,
Ancient homes of lord and lady,

Built for pleasure and for state.
All he shows her makes him dearer :

Evermore she seems to gaze

On that cottage growing nearer, Where they twain will spend their days.

O but she will love him truly!

He shall have a cheerful home;

She will order all things duly,

When beneath his roof they come.
Thus her heart rejoices greatly,

Till a gateway she discerns
With armorial bearings stately,
And beneath the gate she turns;
Sees a mansion more majestic

Than all those she saw before :

Many a gallant gay domestic

Bows before him at the door.
And they speak in gentle murmur,
When they answer to his call,
While he treads with footstep firmer,
Leading on from hall to hall.
And, while now she wonders blindly,
Nor the meaning can divine,
Proudly turns he round and kindly,

'All of this is mine and thine.'
Here he lives in state and bounty,
Lord of Burleigh, fair and free,
Not a lord in all the county

Is so great a lord as he.

All at once the colour flushes

Her sweet face from brow to chin: As it were with shame she blushes,

And her spirit changed within. Then her countenance all over

Pale again as death did prove : But he clasp'd her like a lover,

And he cheer'd her soul with love. So she strove against her weakness, Tho' at times her spirit sank: Shaped her heart with woman's meek

ness

To all duties of her rank: And a gentle consort made he,

And her gentle mind was such That she grew a noble lady,

And the people loved her much. But a trouble weigh'd upon her,

And perplex'd her, night and morn, With the burthen of an honour

Unto which she was not born. Faint she grew, and ever fainter,

And she murmur'd, 'Oh, that he Were once more that landscape-painter, Which did win my heart from me!' So she droop'd and droop'd before him, Fading slowly from his side: Three fair children first she bore him, Then before her time she died.

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As she fled fast thro' sun and shade, The happy winds upon her play'd, Blowing the ringlet from the braid : She look'd so lovely, as she sway'd

The rein with dainty finger-tips, A man had given all other bliss, And all his worldly worth for this, To waste his whole heart in one kiss Upon her perfect lips.

A FAREWELL.

FLOW down, cold rivulet,.to the sea, Thy tribute wave deliver :

No more by thee my steps shall be, For ever and for ever.

Flow, softly flow, by lawn and lea,

A rivulet then a river :

No where by thee my steps shall be, For ever and for ever.

But here will sigh thine alder tree,

And here thine aspen shiver; And here by thee will hum the bee, For ever and for ever.

A thousand suns will stream on thee, A thousand moons will quiver; But not by thee my steps shall be, For ever and for ever.

THE BEGGAR MAID.

HER arms across her breast she laid; She was more fair than words can say: Bare-footed came the beggar maid

Before the king Cophetua.

In robe and crown the king stept down,
To meet and greet her on her way;
'It is no wonder,' said the lords,
'She is more beautiful than day.'

As shines the moon in clouded skies,
She in her poor attire was seen :
One praised her ancles, one her eyes,

One her dark hair and lovesome mien.

So sweet a face, such angel grace,

In all that land had never been :

Cophetua sware a royal oath : "This beggar maid shall be my queen!'

THE EAGLE.

FRAGMENT.

HE clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring'd with the azure world, he stands.
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.

MOVE eastward, happy earth, and leave Yon orange sunset waning slow : From fringes of the faded eve,

O, happy planet, eastward go; Till over thy dark shoulder glow Thy silver sister-world, and rise To glass herself in dewy eyes That watch me from the glen below. Ah, bear me with thee, smoothly borne, Dip forward under starry light, And move me to my marriage-morn, And round again to happy night.

COME not, when I am dead,

To drop thy foolish tears upon my grave, To trample round my fallen head,

And vex the unhappy dust thou wouldst

not save.

There let the wind sweep and the plover cry; But thou, go by.

Child, if it were thine error or thy crime I care no longer, being all unblest : Wed whom thou wilt, but I am sick of Time,

And I desire to rest.

Pass on, weak heart, and leave me where I lie :

Go by, go by.