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I had been a patient wife: but, Sir, he said
That he was wrong to cross his father thus :
God bless him!' he said, "and may

he never know
The troubles I have gone thro'!' Then he turn’d
His face and pass'd—unhappy that I am!
But now, Sir, let me have my boy, for you
Will make him hard, and he will learn to slight
His father's memory; and take Dora back,
And let all this be as it was before.”

So Mary said, and Dora hid her face
By Mary. There was silence in the room ;
And all at once the old man burst in sobs :-

“I have been to blame—to blame. I have kill'd my son. I have kill'd him—but I loved him—my dear son. May God forgive me!--I have been to blame.

children."

Kiss me, my

Then they clung about The old man's neck, and kiss'd him many

times. And all the man was broken with remorse ; And all his love came back a hundredfold ; And for three hours he sobb’d o'er William's child, Thinking of William.

So those four abode

Within one house together; and as years Went forward, Mary took another mate; But Dora lived unmarried till her death.

AUDLEY COURT.

THE Bull, the Fleece are cramm’d, and not a room For love or money.

Let us picnic there At Audley Court."

I spoke, while Audley feast Humm'd like a hive all round the narrow quay, To Francis, with a basket on his arm, To Francis just alighted from the boat, And breathing of the sea. “ With all my heart," Said Francis. Then we shoulder'd through the swarm, And rounded by the stillness of the beach To where the bay runs up its latest horn.

We left the dying ebb that faintly lipp'd The flat red granite; so by many a sweep

Of meadow smooth from aftermath we reach'd

The griffin-guarded gates, and pass'd thro' all
The pillar'd dusk of sounding sycamores,
And cross'd the garden to the gardener's lodge,
With all its casements bedded, and its walls
And chimneys muffled in the leafy vine.

There, on a slope of orchard, Francis laid
A damask napkin wrought with horse and hound,
Brought out a dusky loaf that smelt of home,
And, half-cut-down, a pasty costly-made,
Where quail and pigeon, lark and leveret lay,
Like fossils of the rock, with golden yolks
Imbedded and injellied ; last, with these,
A flask of cider from his father's vats,

Prime, which I knew; and so we sat and eat
And talk'd old matters over: who was dead,
Who married, who was like to be, and how

The races went, and who would rent the hall:

the game, how scarce it was This season; glancing thence, discuss'd the farm, The fourfield system, and the price of grain ; And struck upon the corn-laws, where we split,

Then touch'd

upon

my

And came again together on the king
With heated faces; till he laugh'd aloud;
And, while the blackbird on the pippin hung
To hear him, clapt his hand in mine and sang-

“Oh! who would fight and march and countermarch,
Be shot for sixpence in a battle-field,
And shovelld up into a bloody trench
Where no one knows? but let me live life.

“ Oh! who would cast and balance at a desk,
Perch'd like a crow upon a three-legg'd 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 carv'd my name Upon the cliffs that guard my native land, I might as well have traced it in the sands; The sea wastes all : but let me live

my

life. • Oh! who would love? I woo'd a woman once, But she was sharper than an eastern wind, And all my heart turn’d from her, as a thorn Turns from the sea : but let me live life.”

He sang his song, and I replied with mine : I found it in a volume, all of songs,

my

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