For since that evil hour hath flown, The lady fell, and clasped his knees, Fluttering, and uttering fearful moan, "And in my dream methought I went To search out what might there be found; And what the sweet bird's trouble meant, That thus lay fluttering on the ground. I went and peered, and could descry No cause for her distressful cry; But yet for her dear lady's sake I stooped, methought, the dove to take, When lo! I saw a bright green snake Coiled around its wings and neck, Green as the herbs on which it couched. Close by the dove's its head it crouched; And with the dove it heaves and stirs, Swelling its neck as she swelled hers! I woke; it was the midnight hour, The clock was echoing in the tower; But though my slumber was gone by, This dream it would not pass away, It seems to live upon my eye! And thence I vowed this selfsame day, With music strong and saintly song To wander through the forest bare, Lest aught unholy loiter there." Thus Bracy said: the Baron the while Half-listening heard him with a smile; Then turned to Lady Geraldine, His eyes made up of wonder and love, A snake's small eye blinks dull and shy, And the lady's eyes they shrunk in her head, Each shrunk up to a serpent's eye, At Christabel she looked askance!- The maid, alas! her thoughts are gone; That look of dull and treacherous hate! . SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. For what she knew she could not tell, Why is thy cheek so wan and wild, And wouldst thou wrong thy only child, Her child and thine? Within the Baron's heart and brain, Dishonored thus in his old age; To the wronged daughter of his friend, THE CONCLUSION TO PART II. A LITTLE child, a limber elf, 117 Perhaps 't is tender too and pretty ROBERT SOUTHEY. [1774-1843.] STANZAS. My days among the dead are passed; The mighty minds of old; With them I take delight in weal, How much to them I owe, My thoughts are with the dead; with them My hopes are with the dead; anon My place with them will be, And I with them shall travel on Through all futurity: Yet leaving here a name, I trust, THE INCHCAPE ROCK. No stir in the air, no stir in the sea, Without either sign or sound of their shock So little they rose, so little they fell, On a buoy in the storm it floated and swung, And over the waves its warning rung. When the Rock was hid by the surges' swell, The mariners heard the warning bell; The sun in heaven was shining gay, And there was joyance in their sound. The buoy of the Inchcape Bell was seen He felt the cheering power of spring, His eye was on the Inchcape float; The boat is lowered, the boatmen row, Down sank the bell, with a gurgling sound, Won't bless the Abbot of Aberbrothok." Sir Ralph the Rover sailed away, So thick a haze o'erspreads the sky On the deck the Rover takes his stand, "Canst hear," said one, "the breakers roar? For methinks we should be near the shore; They hear no sound, the swell is strong; Though the wind hath fallen, they drift along, Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock: Cried they, "It is the Inchcape Rock!" Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair, But even in his dying fear BROUGH BELLS. ONE day to Helbeck I had strolled, The while to their sweet undersong Louder or fainter, as it rose Or died away, was borne The harmony of merry bells From Brough, that pleasant morn. "Why are the merry bells of Brough, My friend, so few?" said I; "They disappoint the expectant ear, Which they should gratify. "One, two, three, four; one, two, three, four; 'Tis still one, two, three, four: Mellow and silvery are the tones; But I wish the bells were more!" ROBERT SOUTHEY. "What! art thou critical?" quoth he; "Eschew that heart's disease That seeketh for displeasure where The intent hath been to please. "By those four bells there hangs a tale, Which being told, I guess, Will make thee hear their scanty peal With thankfulness. proper "Not by the Cliffords were they given, "On Stanemore's side, one summer eve, "Behind them, on the lowland's verge, "Slowly they came in long array, With loitering pace at will; "The hills returned that lonely sound Upon the tranquil air: The only sound it was which then "Thou hear'st that lordly bull of mine, "Think'st thou if yon whole herd at once That cruning of the kine?' "That were a crune, indeed,' replied His comrade, 'which, I ween, Might at the Spital well be heard, And in all dales between. "Up Mallerstang to Eden's springs, The eastern wind upon its wings The mighty voice would bear; And Appleby would hear the sound, Methinks, when skies are fair.' 119 "So, while the merry Bells of Brough "As one who, in his latter years, Gave freely what he well could spare “Thus it hath proved: three hundred years Since then have passed away, And Brunskill's is a living name Among us to this day.' "More pleasure," I replied, "shall I From this time forth partake, When I remember Helbeck woods, For old John Brunskill's sake. "He knew how wholesome it would be, "What feelings and what impulses "That, when his brethren were convened To meet for social prayer, He too, admonished by the call, "Or when a glad thanksgiving sound, "For victory by sea or land, And happy peace at length; Peace by his country's valor won, And stablished by her strength; "When such exultant peals were borne Upon the mountain air, The sound should stir his blood, and give An English impulse there." Such thoughts were in the old man's I loved a love once, fairest among women! mind, Long as he will, he dreads no Quarter Day. vites And feasts himself; sleeps with himself o' nights. He spares the upholsterer trouble to pro cure Chattels; himself is his own furniture, roam, Closed are her doors on me now, I must not see her, All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. I have a friend, a kinder friend has no man: Like an ingrate, I left my friend abruptly; Left him, to muse on the old familiar faces. Ghost-like I paced round the haunts of my childhood, Earth seemed a desert I was bound to traverse, Seeking to find the old familiar faces. Friend of my bosom, thou more than a brother, Why wert not thou born in my father's dwelling? Somight we talk of the old familiar faces, How some they have died, and some they have left me, And some are taken from me; all are departed; All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. HESTER. WHEN maidens such as Hester die, With vain endeavor. A month or more hath she been dead, Knock when you will, he 's sure to be A springy motion in her gait, at home. THE OLD FAMILIAR FACES. I HAVE had playmates, I have had companions, In my days of childhood, in my joyful school-days; All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. I have been laughing, I have been carousing, Drinking late, sitting late, with my bosom cronies; All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. A rising step, did indicate I know not by what name beside Her parents held the Quaker rule, A waking eye, a prying mind, |