"If I come drest like a village maid, 'Play me no tricks," said Lord Ronald, O and proudly stood she up! Her heart within her did not fail : She look'd into Lord Ronald's eyes, And told him all her nurse's tale. And I," said he, "the next in blood— "If you are not the heiress born, And I," said he, "the lawful heir, We two will wed to-morrow morn, And you shall still be Lady Clare." THE LORD OF BURLEIGH. In her ear he whispers gaily, 66 If my heart by signs can tell, Maiden, I have watch'd thee daily, And I think thou lov'st me well." She replies, in accents fainter, He is but a landscape-painter, And they leave her father's roof. "I can make no marriage present: . Little can I give my wife. Love will make our cottage pleasant, And I love thee more than life." They by parks and lodges going See the lordly castles stand: Summer woods, about them blowing, From deep thought himself he rouses, Lay betwixt his home and hers; Built for pleasure and for state. Where they twain will spend their days O but she will love him truly! He shall have a cheerful home; She will order all things duly, When beneath his roof they come. Thus her heart rejoices greatly, And beneath the gate she turns ; Than all those she saw before • Many a gallant gay domestic And they speak in gentle murmur, Is so great a lord as he. All at once the colour flushes Her sweet face from brow to chin: As it were with shame she blushes, And her spirit changed within. Then her countenance all over Pale again as death did prove : But he clasp'd her like a lover, And he cheer'd her soul with love. So she strove against her weakness, Tho' at times her spirit sank: Shaped her heart with woman's meekness To all duties of her rank: And a gentle consort made he, And her gentle mind was such That she grew a noble lady, And the people loved her much. But a trouble weigh'd upon her, And perplex'd her, night and moru, With the burthen of an honour Unto which she was not born. Faint she grew, and ever fainter, And she murmur'd, "Oh, that he Were once more that landscape-painter, Which did win my heart from me!" So she droop'd and droop'd before him, Fading slowly from his side: Three fair children first she bore him, Then before her time she died. Weeping, weeping late and early, Walking up and pacing down, Deeply mourn'd the Lord of Burleigh, Burleigh-house by Stamford-town. And he came to look upon her, And he look'd at her and said, "Bring the dress and put it on her, That she wore when she was wed." Then her people, softly treading, Bore to earth her body, drest In the dress that she was wed in, That her spirit might have rest. |