And upon their uppermost spray At dawn of morn they sweetly sung ; And lightly toward heaven at noon they sprung. R. C. Trench. CXC. ALMS WITHOUT CHARITY. KNEW a soft-eyed Lady, from a noble foreign Her voice, I thought, was lowest when we walked I began to say, Heaven pleasing, I shall have her for my Bride: Darkened, darkened, darkened, was the whole world when she died. In the street a man since stopped me: in a noble foreign tongue He said he was a stranger, poor, and strangers all among : I offered all I had. He gazed; then took it, hand and all. O, how his look accused me, while he held my hand in thrall, Pressing it with a gratitude which made my conscience start; For that was not my meaning; and his thanks rebuked my heart. CXCI. C. Patmore. WHERE LIES THE LAND. HERE lies the land to which the ship would go? And where the land she travels from? Away, On sunny noons, upon the deck's smooth face, On stormy nights when wild north-westers rave, How proud a thing to fight with wind and wave ! The dripping sailor on the reeling mast Exults to bear, and scorns to wish it past. Where lies the land to which the ship would go? A. H. Clough. CXCII. SIN. ORD, with what care hast thou begirt us round! Parents first season us; then schoolmasters Deliver us to laws; they send us bound To rules of reason, holy messengers, Pulpits and Sundays, sorrow dogging sin, Blessings beforehand, ties of gratefulness, The sound of glory ringing in our ears; Without, our shame; within our consciences; Angels and grace, eternal hopes and fears. Yet all these fences and their whole array G. Herbert. CXCIII. TO A MOUNTAIN DAISY. EE, modest, crimson-tippèd flower, To spare thee now is past my power, Alas! it's no thy neebor sweet, 2 When upward springing, blythe, to greet Cauld blew the bitter-biting north Scarce reared above the parent earth The flaunting flowers our gardens yield O' clod or stane Adorns the histie' stibble-field, Unseen, alane. 3 Spreckled, speckled. 2 Weet, wet. 6 Bield, shelter. ♦ Glinted, peeped, or rather glanced (glanced'st). 1 Stour, dust. 5 Wa's, walls. 7 Histie, dry and rugged. There, in thy scanty mantle clad, But now the share uptears thy bed, Such is the fate of artless maid, Till she, like thee, all soiled is laid Such is the fate of simple bard, Till billows rage, and gales blow hard, Such fate to suffering worth is given, To misery's brink, Till, wrenched of every stay but heaven, Even thou who mourn'st the Daisy's fate, Till crushed beneath the furrow's weight R. Burns. First Witch. CXCIV. MACBETH. ACT I. SCENE III.-A heath near Forres. Thunder. Enter the three Witches. HERE hast thou been, sister? Third Witch. Sister, where thou? First Witch. A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap, And munched, and munched, and munched :-'Give me,' quoth I: ‘Aroint * thee, witch!' the rump-fed ronyon† cries. Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o' the Tiger : But in a sieve I'll thither sail, And, like a rat without a tail, I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do. Sec. Witch. I'll give thee a wind. First Witch. I myself have all the other, And the very ports they blow, All the quarters that they know I' the shipman's card. I will drain him dry as hay: Sec. Witch. Show me, show me. * Aroint, get thee gone. Ronyon, a term of contempt for a woman. Y |