Live long, ere from thy topmost head

The thick-set hazel dies;

Long, ere the hateful crow shall tread

The corners of thine eyes;

Live long, nor feel in head or chest
Our changeful equinoxes,

Till mellow Death, like some late guest,
Shall call thee from the boxes.

But when he calls, and thou shalt cease
To pace the gritted floor,

And, laying down an unctuous lease

Of life, shalt earn no more:

No carved cross-bones, the types of Death, Shall show thee past to Heaven;

But carved cross-pipes, and, underneath,

A pint-pot, neatly graven.

LADY CLARE.

LORD RONALD Courted Lady Clare,
I trow they did not part in scorn;
Lord Ronald, her cousin, courted her,
And they will wed the morrow morn.

"He does not love me for my birth,

Nor for my lands so broad and fair; He loves me for my own true worth, And that is well," said Lady Clare.

In there came old Alice the nurse,

Said,

"Who was this that went from thee?"

"It was my cousin," said Lady Clare,

"To-morrow he weds with me."

"O God be thanked!" said Alice the nurse,
"That all comes round so just and fair :
Lord Ronald is heir of all your lands,
And you are not the Lady Clare."

"Are ye out of your mind, my nurse, my nurse?” Said Lady Clare, "that ye speak so wild?" "As God's above," said Alice the nurse,

"I speak the truth: you are my child.

"The old Earl's daughter died at my breast;
I speak the truth as I live by bread!
I buried her like my own sweet child,
And put my child in her stead.”

"Falsely, falsely have ye done,

O mother," she said, "if this be true,

To keep the best man under the sun
So many years from his due."

Nay now, my child," said Alice the nurse,
"But keep the secret for your life,

And all you have will be Lord Ronald's,
When you are man and wife."

"If I'm a beggar born," she said,
"I will speak out, for I dare not lie.
Pull off, pull off the brooch of gold,
And fling the diamond necklace by."

Nay now, my child," said Alice the nurse,

"But keep the secret all ye can.”

She said "Not so: but I will know

If there be any faith in man.”

"Nay now, what faith?" said Alice the nurse, "The man will cleave unto his right."

"And he shall have it," the lady replied,

"Yet give one kiss to your mother dear!
Alas, my child, I sinned for thee."
"O mother, mother, mother," she said,
"So strange it seems to me.

"Yet here's a kiss for my mother dear,
My mother dear, if this be so,

And lay your hand upon my head,
And bless me, mother, ere I go."

She clad herself in a russet gown,
She was no longer Lady Clare:
She went by dale, and she went by down
With a single rose in her hair.

A lily-white doe Lord Ronald had brought
Leapt up from where she lay,

Dropt her head in the maiden's hand,
And followed her all the way.

Down stept Lord Ronald from his tower :

“O

"O Lady Clare, you shame your worth! Why come you drest like a village maid,

That are the flower of the earth?

"If I come drest like a village maid,
I am but as my fortunes are:
I am a beggar born," she said,
"And not the Lady Clare."

Play me no tricks," said Lord Ronald, "For I am yours in word and deed. Play me no tricks,” said Lord Ronald, "Your riddle is hard to read."

O and proudly stood she up!

Her heart within her did not fail : She looked into Lord Ronald's eyes,

And told him all her nurse's tale.