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That faithful servant whom we spoke | And tho' she seem so like the one you lost, about,

Obedient to her second master now;

Which will not last. I have here to-night a guest

So bound to me by common love and lossWhat! shall 1 bind him more? in his behalf,

Shall I exceed the Persian, giving him That which of all things is the dearest to me,

Not only showing? and he himself pronounced

That my rich gift is wholly mine to give.

"Now all be dumb, and promise all of

you

Not to break in on what I say by word
Or whisper, while I show you all iny heart."
And then began the story of his love
As here to-day, but not so wordily-
The passionate moment would not suffer
that-

Past thro' his visions to the burial; thence
Down to this last strange hour in his own
hall;

And then rose up, and with him all his
guests

Once more as by enchantment, all but he,
Lionel, who fain had risen, but fell again,
And sat as if in chains-to whom he said:

"Take my free gift, my cousin, for your
wife;

And were it only for the giver's sake,

Yet cast her not away so suddenly,
Lest there be none left here to bring her
bak:

I leave this land forever." Here he ceased.

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I.

TWO GREETINGS.

OUT of the deep, my child, out of the
deep,

Where all that was to be in all that was
Whirl'd for a million æons thro' the vast
Waste dawn of multitudinous-eddying
light-

Out of the deep, my child, out of the
deep,

Thro' all this changing world of change.
less law,

And every phase of ever-heightening life,
And nine long months of antenatal gloom,
With this last moon, this crescent-her
dark orb

Touch'd with earth's light-thou comest,
darling boy;

Our own; a babe in lineament and limb
Perfect, and prophet of the perfect

man;

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(WRITTEN AT REQUEST OF THE FLORENTINES.) ·

KING, that hast reign'd six hundred years, | Hath sought the tribute of a verse from

and grown

In power, and ever growest, since thine

own

Fair Florence honoring thy nativity, Thy Florence now the crown of Italy,

me,

I, wearing but the garland of a day,
Cast at thy feet one flower that fades

away.

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"WAIT a little," you say, "you are sure it'll all come right,"

But the boy was born i' trouble, an' looks So wan an' so white:

Wat! an' once I ha' waited—I hadn't to wait for long.

Now I wait, wait, wait for Harry.-No, no, you are doing me wrong! Harry and I were married: the boy can hold up his head,

The boy was born in wedlock, but after my man was dead;

I ha' worked for him fifteen years, an' I work an' I wait to the end.

I am all alone in the world, an' you are my only friend.

II.

Doctor, if you can wait, I'll tell you the tale o' my life.

When Harry an' I were children, he call'd me his own little wife:

I was happy when I was with him, an' sorry when he was away,

An' when we play'd together, I loved him better than play;

He workt me the daisy chain-he made me the cowslip ball,

He fought the boys that were rude an' I loved him better than all.

Passionate girl tho' I was, an' often at home in disgrace,

I never could quarrel with Harry-I had but to look in his face.

III.

There was a farmer in Dorset of Harry's kin, that had need

Of a good stout lad at his farm; he sent, an' the father agreed;

So Harry was bound to the Dorsetshire farm for years an' for years; I walked with him down to the quay, poor lad, an' we parted in tears. The boat was beginning to move, we heard them a-ringing the bell, "I'll never love any but you, God bless you, my own little Nell.”

IV.

I was a child, an' he was a child, an' he came to harm;

There was a girl, a hussy, that workt with him up at the farm,

One had deceived her an' left her alono with her sin an' her shame,

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And so she was wicked with Harry; the I had better ha' put my naked hand in a

girl was the most to blame.

harnets' nest.

XI.

Sweetheart "-this was the letter-this was the letter I read"You promised to find me work near you, an' I wish I was deadDidn't you kiss me an' promise? you haven't done it, my lad,

An' I almost died o' your going away, an' I wish that I had."

XII.

I too wish that I had-in the pleasant times that had past,

Before I quarrell'd with Harry-my quarrel-the first an' the last.

XIII.

For Harry came in, an' I flung him the letter that drove me wild,

An' he told it me all at once, as simple as any child,

"What can it matter, my lass, what I did wi' my single life?

I ha' been as true to you as ever a man to his wife;

An' she wasn't one o' the worst." "Then,"
I said, "I'm none o' the best."
And he smiled at me, "Ain't you, my love?

Come, come, little wife, let it rest! The man isn't like the woman, no need to make such a stir."

But he anger'd me all the more, an' I said "You were keeping with her, When I was a loving you all along an' the

same as before."

An' he didn't speak for a while, an' he

anger'd me more and more. Then he patted my hand in his gentle way, "Let bygones be!" "Bygones! you kept yours hush'd," I said, "when you married me! Bygones ma' be come-agains; in her shame an' her sinYou'll have her to nurse my child, if I die o' my lying in!

an' she

You'll make her its second mother! I hate her-an' I hate you!"

Than ha' spoken as kind as you did, when I were so crazy wi' spite, "Wait a little, my lass, I am sure it'll all come right."

XIV.

An' he took three turns in the rain, an' I watch'd him, an' when he came in

I felt that my heart was hard, he was all wet thro' to the skin,

An' I never said "off wi' the wet," I never said on wi' the dry,"

So I knew my heart was hard, when he came to bid me good-by.

"You said that you hated me, Ellen, but that isn't true, you know;

I am going to leave you a bit-you'll kiss me before I go?"

XV.

"Going! you're going to her-kiss herif you will," I said,

I was near my time wi' the boy, I must ha' been light i' my head"I had sooner be cursed than kiss'd !"-I didn't know well what I meant, But I turn'd my face from him, an' he turn'd his face an' he went.

XVI.

An' then he sent me a letter, "I've gotten my work to do;

You wouldn't kiss me, my lass, an' I never loved any but you;

I am sorry for all the quarrel an' sorry for what she wrote,

I ha' six weeks' work in Jersey an' go to night by the boat."

XVII.

An' the wind began to rise, an' I thought of him out at sea,

An' I felt I had been to blame; he was always kind to me.

"Wait a little, my lass, I am sure it'll all come right "_

Ah, Harry, my man, you had better ha' An' the boat went down that night-the beaten me black an' blue boat went down that night.

RIZPAH.
17-.

WAILING, wailing, wailing, the wind over land and sea

And Willy's voice in the wind, "O mother, come out to me."

Why should he call me to-night, when he knows that I cannot go? For the downs are as bright as day, and the full moon stares at the snow.

п.

We should be seen, my dear; they would spy us out of the town.

The loud black nights for us, and the storm rushing over the down, When I cannot see my own hand, but am led by the creak of the chain, And grovel and grope for my son till I find myself drenched with the rain.

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Any thing fallen again? nay-what was there left to fall?

I have taken them home, I have number'd the bones, I have hidden them all.

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God'll pardon the hell-black raven and horrible fowls of the air,

What am I saying? and what are you? But not the black heart of the lawyer who

do you come as a spy?

Falls? what falls? who knows? As the tree falls so must it lie.

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Nay-for it's kind of you, Madam, to sit by an old dying wife.

But say nothing hard of my boy, I have only an hour of life.

I kiss'd my boy in the prison, before he went out to die.

"They dared me to do it," he said, and he never has told me a lie.

I whipt him for robbing an orchard once when he was but a child

"The farmer dared me to do it," he said; he was always so wild

And idle-and couldn't be idle-my Willy -he never could rest.

kill'd him and hang'd him there.

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XII.

The King should have made him a soldier, Do you think I was scared by the bones?

he would have been one of his best.

VII.

But he lived with a lot of wild mates, and they never would let him be good; They swore that he dare not rob the mail, and he swore that he would;

And he took no life, but he took one purse, and when all was done

He flung it among his fel ows-I'll none of it, said my son.

VIII.

I came into court to the Judge and the lawyers. I told them my tale,

God's own truth-but they kill'd him, they kill'd him for 1obbing the mail.

I kiss'd 'em, I buried 'em all

I can't dig deep, I am old-in the night by the churchyard wall.

My Willy'll rise up whole when the trumpet of judgment 'ill sound, But I charge you never to say that I laid him in holy ground.

XIII.

They would scratch him up-they would hang him again on the cursed tree. Sin? O yes-we are sinners, I know-let all that be,

And read me a Bible verse of the Lord's good will toward men

"Full of compassion and mercy, the Lord "-let me hear it again;

They hang'd him in chains for a show-"Full of compassion and mercy-long

we had always borne a good nameTo be hang'd for a thief-and then put away-isn't that enough shame!

suffering." Yes, O yes!

For the lawyer is born but to murder

the Saviour lives but to bless.

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