And clapt him on the hands and on the cheeks, Like one that loved him; and the lad stretch'd out From Allan's watch, and sparkled by the fire. "O Father! - if you let me call you soI never came a-begging for myself, Or William, or this child; but now I come But now, Sir, let me have my boy, for you So Mary said, and Dora hid her face 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. Kiss me, my children." Then they clung about The old man's neck, and kiss'd him many times. And all his love came back a hundredfold; And for three hours he sobb'd o'er William's child, So those four abode Within one house together; and as years “THE AUDLEY COURT. HE Bull, the Fleece are cramm'd, and not a room At Audley Court." Let us picnic there 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 thro' the swarm, And rounded by the stillness of the beach To where the bay runs up its latest horn. There, on a slope of orchard, Francis laid A damask napkin wrought with horse and hound, 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 shovell'd up into a bloody trench Where no one knows? but let me live my 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 "Who'd serve the state? for if I carved 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. 66 "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 my life." Knock'd down to me, when old Sir Robert's pride, Came to the hammer here in March - and this I set the words, and added names I knew. "Sleep, Ellen Aubrey, sleep, and dream of me: Sleep, Ellen, folded in thy sister's arm, And sleeping, haply dream her arm is mine. 66 Sleep, Ellen, folded in Emilia's arm; Emilia, fairer than all else but thou, For thou art fairer than all else that is. "Sleep, breathing health and peace upon her breast: Sleep, breathing love and trust against her lip: I go to-night I come to-morrow morn. 66 'I go, but I return: I would I were The pilot of the darkness and the dream. Did what I would; but ere the night we rose The town was hush'd beneath us: lower down WALKING TO THE MAIL. John. I'm glad I walk'd. How fresh the meadows look Above the river, and, but a month ago, The whole hill-side was redder than a fox. Is yon plantation where this byway joins The turnpike? James. Yes. John. And when does this come by? James. The mail? At one o'clock. James. A quarter to. John. What is it now? John. Whose house is that I see? No, not the County Member's with the vane: Up higher with the yewtree by it, and half A score of gables. James. That? Sir Edward Head's: But he's abroad: the place is to be sold. James. No, sir, he, Vex'd with a morbid devil in his blood That veil'd the world with jaundice, hid his face That keeps us all in order more or less — And sick of home went overseas for change. John. And whither? James. Nay, who knows? he's here and there. But let him go; his devil goes with him, As well as with his tenant, Jocky Dawes. John. What's that? |