"Do with me as you will, but take the child Got up betwixt you and the woman there. So saying, he took the boy, that cried aloud Then Dora went to Mary's house, and stood So the women kiss'd Then they came in but when the boy beheld For Dora: take her back; she loves you well. So Mary said, and Dora hid her face By Mary. There was silence in the room; "I have been to blame-to blame. I have killed 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 for three hours he sobb'd o'er William's child, So those four abode Within one house together; and as years Went forward, Mary took another mate; But Dora lived unmarried till her death.-Tennyson. GUY MANNERING. MEG MERRILIES and DOMINIE SAMPSON. Meg. FROM One peril I have preserved young Bertram! His greatest and his last is still to come. From that, too, will I protect him, for I was born to raise the house of Ellangowan from its ruins. I told Hatteraick and his murderous crew, when they forced the child away, e'en when the villain's dagger at his infant throat forced my unwilling secrecy to their fiendish plan, that should the sweet blossom live to ripen into manhood, and return to his native land, I'd set him in his father's seat again. I'll do it, though I dig my own grave in the attempt. Enter DOMINIE SAMPSON, looking at his clothes. Dom. Truly, my outward man doth somewhat embarrass my sensations of identity. My vestments are renovated miraculously. Meg. Stop!-I command thee! She's mad. Meg. No, I am not mad!-I've been imprisoned for madscourged for mad-banished for mad--but mad I am not ! Dom. 'Tis Meg Merrilies, renowned for her sorceries! I haven't seen her for many a year. My blood curdles to hear her! I am perturbed at thy words-Woman, I conjure thee! Nay, then, will I flee incontinently! Meg. Halt stand fast, or ye shall rue the day, while a limb of you hangs together! Dom. Conjuro te, nequissima, et scelestissima! Meg. What gibberish is that? Go from me to Colonel Mannering. Dom. I am fugacious. Meg. Stay!-Thou tremblest! Drink of this! Dom. I am not a-thirst, most execrable-I mean, excellent Meg. Drink! and put some heart in you. Dom. Lo; I obey! Meg. Can your learning tell what this is? Meg. Will you remember my errand now? [Drinks.] Dom. I will, most pernicious-that is, pertinaciousMeg. Then tell Colonel Mannering, if ever he owed a debt to the House of Ellangowan, and hopes to see it prosper, he must come, instantly, armed, and well attended, to the Glen, below the Tower of Derncleugh, and fail not on his life! you know the spot? Dom. I do where you once dwelt, most accursed—that is, most accurate. Meg. Ay, Abel Sampson, there blazed my hearth for many a day! and there, beneath the willow, that hung its garlands over the brook, I've sat, and sung to Harry Bertram, songs of the olden time. That tree is withered now, never to be green again; and old Meg Merrilies will never sing blythe songs more. But I charge you, Abel Sampson, when the heir shall have his own-as soon he shall Dom. Woman !-what sayest you! Meg. That you tell him not to forget Meg Merrilies, but to build up the old walls in the glen, for her sake, and let those that live there be too good to fear the beings of another world; for, if ever the dead come back among the living, I'll be seen in that glen many a night after these crazed bones are whitened in the mouldering grave. I have said it, old man! you shall see him again, and the best lord he shall be that Ellangowan has seen this hundred years. The moment is at hand, when all shall behold Bertram's right, and Bertram's might, Meet on Ellangowan's height. -Sir Walter Scott. THE DAY IS DONE. THE day is done, and the darkness I see the lights of the village. Gleam through the rain and the mist, A feeling of sadness and longing, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain. Come, read to me some poem, Not from the grand old masters, For, like strains of martial music, Life's endless toil and endeavour; Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart, Who, through long days of labour, Such songs have power to quiet Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet And the night shall be filled with music, AS YOU LIKE IT. DUKE FREDERICK, ROSALIND, and CELIA. Duke F. MISTRESS, despatch you with your safest haste, And get you from our court. Ros. Me, uncle? Duke F. You, cousin; Within these ten days if thou be'st found So near our public court as twenty miles Thou diest for it. Ros. I do beseech your grace, Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me, If with myself I hold intelligence, Or have acquaintance with mine own desires; If that I do not dream, or be not frantic, (As I do trust I am not,) then, dear uncle, |