With all its casements bedded, and its walls There, on a slope of orchard, Francis laid Prime, which I knew; and so we sat and eat And, while the blackbird on the pippin hung "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 life. "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. "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 Knock'd down to me, when old Sir Robert's pride, Sleep, Ellen Aubrey, sleep, and dream of me: And sleeping, haply dream her arm is mine. 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. "I go, but I return: I would I were The pilot of the darkness and the dream. So sang we each to either, Francis Hale, The farmer's son who lived across the bay, My friend; and I, that having wherewithal, And in the fallow leisure of my life A rolling stone of here and everywhere, Did what I would; but ere the night we rose The limit of the hills; and as we sank Dipt by itself, and we were glad at heart. 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. 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 : A score of gables. James. That? Sir Edward Head's: But he's abroad: the place is to be sold. James. No, sir, he, Q Vex'd with a morbid devil in his blood That veil'd the world with jaundice, hid his face 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. James. You saw the man -on Monday, was it ?— Was haunted with a jolly ghost, that shook "What! |