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"O thus," quoth Dighton, "lay the gentle babes. — "Thus, thus," quoth Forrest, "girdling one another Within their alabaster innocent arms;
Their lips were four red roses on a stalk,
Which, in their summer beauty, kissed each other.
Which once," quoth Forrest," almost changed my mind;
THE SONG OF THE WESTERN MEN.
GOOD sword and a trusty hand!
And have they fixed the where and when?
Here's twenty thousand Cornish men
Out spake their captain brave and bold,
"If London Tower were Michael's hold,
"We'll cross the Tamar, land to land,
With one and all, and hand in hand,
"And when we come to London Wall,
Come forth come forth, ye cowards all,
"Trelawny he's in keep and hold,
Trelawny he may die;
But here's twenty thousand Cornish bold
Robert Stephen Hawker.
LORD STRAFFORD'S MEDITATIONS IN THE TOWER.
NO, empty joys,
noise, And leave me here alone,
In sweet sad silence to bemoan
The fickle worldly height,
Whose danger none can see aright,
Whilst your false splendors dim his sight.
Go, and ensnare
With your trim ware
Some other easy wight,
And cheat him with your flattering light;
Rain on his head a shower
Of honors, favor, wealth, and power;
Fill his big mind
With gallant wind
Of insolent applause;
Let him not fear all-curbing laws,
Then, climbing towards it, tumble down.
Let him appear
In his bright sphere
Like Cynthia in her pride,
With starlike troops on every side;
For number and clear light
Such as may soon o'erwhelm him quite, And blend them both in one dead night.
Welcome, sad night,
Thy mourning best agrees
With honor's funeral obsequies!
In Thetis' lap he lies,
Mantled with soft securities,
Whose too much sunshine dims his eyes.
Was he too bold,
Who needs would hold
With curbing reins the Day,
And make Sol's fiery steeds obey?
Then, sure, as rash was I,
Who with ambitious wings did fly
I fall, I fall!
Whom shall I call?
Alas! can he be heard,
Who now is neither loved nor feared?
How each admires
Heaven's twinkling fires,
Whilst from their glorious seat
Now 't is too late
Those lights whose pallidness
In Heaven's High Court of Parliament.
THE BURDEN OF LONDON.
LONDON! thou more than Tyre a thousand-fold,
Who will take up the burden against thee?
Art thou the mighty city there foretold?
JOHN OF PADUA.
OHN of Padua duly came,
Henry Sewell Stokes.
A LEGEND OF LONGLEAT.
LONGLEAT, the seat of the Marquis of Bath, situated on the borders of Wiltshire, is a beautiful example of the Italian architecture of the Elizabethan age. It took some forty years in building, cost a fabulous sum of money, and was the work of John, an architect of Padua, who also built old Somerset House.
A grave wise man with a dark pale face, He sat him down with a pondering brow,