My book to mind: and opening this I read

Of old Sir Ralph a page or two that rang

With tilt and tourney; then the tale of her

That drove her foes with slaughter from her walls,

And much I praised her nobleness, and "Where."

Ask'd Walter, patting Lilia's head (she lay

Beside him)"lives there such a woman now?"

Quick answer'd Lilia "There aro thousands now

Such women, but convention beats them down:

It is but bringing up; no more than that:

You men have done it: how I hate you all!

Ah, were I something great! I wish I

were

Some mighty poetess, I would shame

you then,

That love to keep us children! O I wish

That I were some great princess, I would build

Far off from men a college like a man's,

And I would teach them all that men are taught;

We are twice as quick!" And here she shook aside

The hand that play'd the patron with her curls.

And one said smiling "Pretty were the sight

If our old halls could change their sex, and flaunt

With prudes for proctors, dowagers for deans,

And sweet girl-graduates in their golden hair.

I think they should not wear our rusty gowns,

But move as rich as Emperor-moths, or Ralph

Who shines so in the corner; yet I

And "petty Ogress," and "ungrateful Puss,"

And swore he long'd at college, only long'd,

All else was well, for she-society, They boated and they cricketed; they talk'd

At wine, in clubs, of art, of politics: They lost their weeks; they vext the souls of deans;

They rode; they betted; made a hundred friends,

And caught the blossom of the flying terms,

But miss'd the mignonette of Vivianplace,

The little hearth-flower Lilia. Thus he spoke,

Part banter, part affection.

"True," she said, "We doubt not that. O yes, you miss'd

us much.

I'll stake my ruby ring upon it you did."

A PRINCE I was, blue-eyed, and fair in face,

Of temper amorous, as the first of May,

With lengths of yellow ringlets, like a girl,

For on my cradle shone the Northern star.

There lived an ancient legend in our house.

Some sorcerer, whom a far-off grandsire burnt

Because he cast no shadow, had foretold,

Dying, that none of all our blood should know

The shadow from the substance, and that one

Should come to fight with shadows and to fall.

For so, my mother said, the story ran. And, truly, waking dreams were, more or less,

An old and strange, affection of the

But when the days drew nigh that I. should wed,

My father sent ambassadors with furs And jewels, gifts, to fetch her these brought back

A present, a great labor of the loom ; And therewithal an answer vague as wind:

Besides, they saw the king; he took the gifts;

He said there was a compact; that was true:

But then she had a will; was he to blame?

And maiden fancies; loved to live alone

Among her women; certain, would not wed.

That morning in the presence room I stood

With Cyril and with Florian, my twa friends:

The first, a gentleman of broken

Communing with his captains of the

war.

At last I spoke. "My father, let me go.

It cannot be but some gross error lies In this report, this answer of a king, Whom all men rate as kind and hospitable:

Or, maybe, I myself, my bride once seen,

Whate'er my grief to find her less than fame,

May rue the bargain made." And Florian said:

"I have a sister at the foreign court, Who moves about the Princess; she, you know,

Who wedded with a nobleman from thence:

He, dying lately, left her, as I hear, The lady of three castles in that land: Thro' her this matter might be sifted clean."

And Cyril whisper'd: "Take me with you too."

Then laughing "what, if these weird seizures come

Upon you in those lands, and no one

near

To point you out the shadow from the truth!

Take me I'll serve you better in a strait;

I grate on rusty hinges here:" but "No!"

Roar'd the rough king, "you shall not; we ourself

Will crush her pretty maiden fancies dead

In iron gauntlets: break the council up."

But when the council broke, I rose and past

Thro' the wild woods that hung about the town;

Found a still place, and pluck'd her likeness out;

Laid it on flowers, and watch'd it lying bathed

In the green gleam of dewy-tassell'd trees:

What were those fancies? wherefore break her troth?

Proud look'd the lips: but while I meditated

A wind arose and rush'd upon the South,

And shook the songs, the whispers, and the shrieks

Of the wild woods together; and a

Too awful, sure, for what they treated of,

But all she is and does is awful; odes About this losing of the child; and rhymes

And dismal lyrics, prophesying change Beyond all reason: these the women

sang;

And they that know such things-I sought but peace;

No critic I would call them master pieces:

They master'd me. At last she begg'd a boon

A certain summer-palace which I have Hard by your father's frontier: I said no,

Yet being an easy man, gave it: and there,

All wild to found an University
For maidens, on the spur she fled; and

more

We know not,-only this: they see no men,

Not ev'n her brother Arac, nor the twins

Her brethren, tho' they love her, look upon her

As on a kind of paragon; and I (Pardon me saying it) were much loath to breed

Dispute betwixt myself and mine; but since

(And I confess with right) you think me bound

In some sort, I can give you letters to her;

And yet, to speak the truth, I rate your chance

Almost at naked nothing."

Thus the king: And I, tho' nettled that he seem'd to slur

With garrulous ease and oily courtesies Our formal compact, yet, not less (all frets

But chafing me on fire to find my bride)

Went forth again with both my friends. We rode

Many a long league back to the North. At last

From hills, that look'd across a land of hope,

We dropt with evening on a rustic town

Set in a gleaming river's crescent

There stood a bust of Pallas for a sign,

By two sphere lamps blazon'd like Heaven and Earth

With constellation and with continent, Above an entry: riding in, we call'd; A plump-arm'd Ostleress and a stable wench

Came running at the call, and help'd us down.

Then stept a buxom hostess forth, and sail'd,

Full-blown, before us into rooms which gave

Upon a pillar'd porch, the bases lost In laurel her we ask'd of that and this,

And who were tutors. "Lady Elanche" she said,

"And Lady Psyche." "Which was prettiest,

Best-natured ?"

"Lady Psyche." "Hers are we,'

One voice, we cried; and I sat down and wrote,

In such a hand as when a field of corn Bows all its ears before the roaring East;

"Three ladies of the Northern empire pray

Your Highness would enroll them with your own,

As Lady Psyche's pupils."

This I seal'd: The seal was Cupid bent above a

scroll,

And o'er his head Uranian Venus hung,

And raised the blinding bandage from

his eyes:

I gave the letter to be sent with dawn; And then to bed, where half in doze I

seem'd

To float about a glimmering night, and watch

A full sea glazed with mufled moonlight, swell

On some dark shore just seen that it was rich.

As thro' the land at eve we went,
And pluck'd the ripen'd ears,
We fell out, my wife and I.
O we fell out I know not why,

And kiss'd again with tears.
And blessings on the falling out
That all the more endears,
When we fall out with those we love