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It was the time when lilies blow,
‘Nay, now, what faith?” said Alice the And clouds are highest up in air,
nurse; Lord Ronald brought a lily-white doe
The man will cleave unto his right."To give his cousin, Lady Clare.
And he shall have it,” the lady replied,
“Though I should die, to-night!” I trow they did not parle in scorn;
Lovers long betrothed were they : “Yet give one kiss to your mother dear! They two will wed the morrow morn: Alas, my child, I sinned for thee.” — God's blessing on the day.
O mother, mother, mother,” she said,
“So strange it seems to me. He does not love me for my birth,
Nor for my lands, so broad and fair; Yet here's a kiss for my mother dear, He loves me for my own true worth,
My mother dear, if this be so;
And bless me, mother, ere I go.”
She was no longer Lady Clare: It was my cousin,” said Lady Clare; She went by dale and she went by down, “To-morrow he weds with me.'
With a single rose in her hair. "O God be thanked !” said Alice the The lily-white doe Lord Ronald had nurse,
brought, That all comes round so just and fair; Leapt up from where she lay, Lord Ronald is heir of all your land, Dropped her head in the maiden's hand, And you are not the Lady Clare.”
And followed her all the way. Are
ye out of your mind, my nurse, my Down stepped Lord Ronald from his tower: nurse,"
"O Lady Clare, you shame your worth ! Said Lady Clare, “that ye speak so wild ?”– Why come you dressed like a village maid “As God's above," said Alice the nurse,
That are the flower of the earth ?" “I speak the truth-you are my child.
“If I come dressed like a village maid, The old Earl's daughter died at my breast- I am but as my fortunes are;
I speak the truth, as I live by bread ! I am a beggar born,” she said, I buried her like my own sweet child,
And not the Lady Clare." And put my child in her stead."
“Play me no tricks,” said Lord Ronald, “Falsely, falsely have ye done,
“For I am yours in word and deed; O mother,” she said, “if this be true; Play me no tricks,” said Lord Ronald; To keep the best man under the sun
Your riddle is hard to read." So many years from his due.”
Oh, and proudly stood she up! “Nay, now, my child,” said Alice the nurse; Her heart within her did not fail;
“But keep the secret for your life, She looked into Lord Ronald's eyes, And all you have will be Lord Ronald's And told him all her nurse's tale. When you are man and wife."
He laughed a laugh of merry scorn; “If I'm a beggar born,” she said,
He turned and kissed her where she “I will speak out, for I dare not lie;
stood: Pull off, pull off the brooch of gold, "If you are not the heiress born,
And fling the diamond necklace by!” And I,” said he, the next in blood-
And I," said he, the lawful heir,
We two will wed to-morrow morn,
Strange feeling filled them at his voice,
Even at that hour of woe,
Who wished with him to go.
How horrible it is to sink
Beneath the chilly stream-
In vain for help to scream !"
But William leapt into the boat,
The shriek again was heard; it came His terror was so sore :
More deep, more piercing loud : “Thou shalt have half my gold !” he That instant o'er the flood the moon cried;
Shone through a broken cloud. “Haste !—haste to yonder shore !”
And near them they beheld a child; The boatman plied the oar, the boat
Upon a crag he stood, Went ligbt along the stream
A little crag, and all around Sudden Lord William heard a cry,
Was spread the rising flood.
The boatman plied the oar, the boat
The moon-beam shone upon the child, " "Twas but the howling wind of night," And showed how pale his face. Lord William made reply.
“Now reach thine hand !” the boatman “Haste! haste !-ply swift and strong the
cried; oar !
Lord William, reach and save !" Haste ! haste across the stream !"
The child stretched forth his little hands, Again Lord William heard a cry,
To grasp the hand he
gave. Like Edmund's drowning scream.
Then William shrieked : the hand he “I heard a child's distressful voice,"
touched The boatman cried again. —
Was cold, and damp, and dead ! Nay, hasten on !—the night is dark, He felt young Edmund in his arms ! And we should search in vain !” —
A heavier weight than lead !
"And, oh ! Lord William, dost thou know The boat sunk down, the murderer sunk How dreadful 'tis to die?
Beneath the avenging stream;
Heard William's drowning scream!
THE LITTLE MARINER.
Ay, sitting on your happy hearths, beside Oh! pleasant were the tales he told of lands your mother's knee,
so strange and new; How should you know the miseries and And in my ignorance I vowed I'd be a dangers of the sea ?
sailor too: My father was a mariner, and from my My father heard my vow with joy; so in earliest years
the early May I can remember, night and day, my We went on board a merchantman, bound mother's prayers and tears.
for Honduras Bay.
I can remember how she sighed when blew Right merrily, right merrily, we sailed the stormy gale;
before the wind, And how for days she stood to watch the With a briskly heaving sea before, and the long-expected sail :
landsman's cheer behind. Hers was a silent, patient grief; but fears There was joy for me in every league, deand long delay,
light on every strand, And wakeful nights and anxious days, were And I sat for days on the high foretop, on wearing her away.
the long look-out for land.
And when the gusty winds were loud, and There was joy for me in the nightly watch, autumn leaves were red,
on the burning tropic seas, I watched, with heavy heart, beside my To mark the waves, like living fires, leap mother's dying bed :
up to the freshening breeze. Just when her voice was feeblest, the Right merrily, right merrily, our gallant neighbours came to say,
ship went free, The ship was hailed an hour before, and Until we neared the rocky shoals within then was in the bay.
the Western Sea.
Alas! too late the ship returned—too late Yet still none thought of danger near, till her life to save;
in the silent night My father closed her dying eyes, and laid The helmsman gave the dreadful word of her in the grave.
“Breakers to the right !” He was a man of ardent hopes, who never The moment that his voice was heard, was knew dismay;
felt the awful shock; And, spite of grief, the winter-time wore The ship sprang forward with a bound, and cheerfully away.
struck upon a rock.
He had crossed the equinoctial line full “All hands aloft !” our captain cried : in seven times or more;
terror and dismay And, sailing northward, had been wrecked They threw the cargo overboard, and cut on icy Labrador.
the masts away: He knew the Spice Isles, every one, where 'Twas all in vain, 'twas all in vain; the sea the clove and nutmeg grow,
rushed o'er the deck, And the aloe towers, a stately tree, with And, shattered with the beating surf, down clustering bells of snow.
went the parting wreck.
He had gone the length of Hindustan, down The moment that the wreck went down Ganges' holy flood;
my father seized me fast, Through Persia, where the peacock broods, And leaping 'mid the thundering waves, a wild bird of the wood;
seized on the broken mast. And, in the forests of the West, had seen I know not how he bore me up, my senses the red deer chased,
seemed to swim, And dwelt beneath the piny woods, a hun- A shuddering horror chilled my brain, ter of the waste.
and stiffened every limb.