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From the climes of the sun, all war-worn and weary,

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God speed thee, Eustace D'Argencourt, be brave, &c.
Had I the power above this mortal state, ....................

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Hark! heard you not those hoofs of dreadful note? ........
He is come from the land of the sword and the shrine,

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My boy refused his food, forgot to play, ....................

My child, my child, thou leav'st me! I shall heary ......

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My untried muse shall no high tune assume,

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Not easily, my friend, can I recount,

O could my spirit fly from this dark world of woe,
O heaven, O beautiful and boundless sky,
O listen, listen, ladies gay!..................................................
O wanderer! would thy heart forget, .........
Of power and honour no longer a token,
Oft have I thought, if I should die,
Oh! child of grief, why weepest thou?

...........

Oh poverty is this a child of thine, ............
Oh! say not that the picturings of youth, ..........................
Oh that those lips had language! life has passed,
Oh! the lady I admire is so beautiful and bright,
On beds of snow the moon-beam slept,
On Ella's cheek the rose was seen,
Oppressed with grief, oppressed with care,.

Our days, alas! our mortal days, '................ ..................................
Paris! there was no sleep beneath thy roofs,
Prostrate in the dust,

Reader! the mortal part is here interred,

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Scenes of my youth! ye once were dear, ..
See, reader, here, in youth, or age, or prime,
See the glow-worm lits her fairy lamp, ........
Shall he, whose birth, maturity and age, ......... ..

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She was a thing of morn, with the soft calm,

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Smile through thy tears like the blush moss-rose,

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Soldier! so tender of thy Prince's fame,

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Soon shall I lay my head, ..........................

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So prayed the Psalmist to be free, ........................................... .......................

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Stranger, pause--for thee the day, ..............

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Stranger! who sleeps in yonder, nameless grave,

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Sun of the sleepless! melancholy star, ...................................................... 131

The bark that held a prince went down,

The curling waves with awful roar, .....................................

The day-light is fading! the cloud-broken ray,
The dews of night did falle, ............................

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There is a land, of every land the pride,

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There is not in this wide world a valley so sweet,

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The silver lamp burns dead and dim,

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The soft blooms of summer are fair to the eye,

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They bid me sleep-they bid me pray, ..

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They have made her a grave too cold and damp, ............. 124

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Thou art come from the spirits' land, thou bird,

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'Tis thou that soothest the deathbed of the saint,

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'Twas summer, and a Sabbath eve,

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Upon yon dial-stone,

Weep, Emmeline, weep, ..........................

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Weep not for me, mother! because I must die,

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What hidest thou in thy treasure caves and cells?

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What's earthly hope ?-a worthless thing,

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When night sits on the earth, and tower and town,` ................................

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When the last sunshine of expiring day,

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When the sun is laid in his purple shroud,

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When the sun shines out bright,

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When years of pain and peril past, ..............................................

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Where are you with whom in life I started,

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Who hushed my infant cares to rest,

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"Why loves my flower, (the sweetest flower,)'

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Wild as the rocking of a bark upon a stormy sea, .............................
With fruitless labour Clara bound,

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Yea, if the world have loved thee not, ............. ..............................

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Yes, thou art changed since first we met, ...........................................
Yet half I hear the parting spirit sigh,

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Yes! I have seen the ancient oak, .............

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Yet such the destiny of all on earth, ..........

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THE

POETICAL MELANGE.

CUMNOR HALL.

The famous Earl of Leicester, Queen Elizabeth's favourite, was early married to the unfortunate subject of the following poem, by name Amy Robsart. After his advancement at Court, his former love to his Countess was changed into hatred, as he considered her as the only bar to his ambitious project of marrying Queen Elizabeth. Accordingly, far from bringing her to Court, he confined her in an ancient Gothic building in Berkshire, upon his manor of Cumnor, which had formerly been an Abbey. From this dreary solitude she disappeared so very unaccountably, and her husband's account of her death seemed so suspicious, that it was generally believed she was there murdered. The particulars which led to these suspicions may be found in a book called Leicester's Commonwealth, well known to book-collectors, and supposed to be written by Parsons the Jesuit.

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This beautiful ballad was written by William Julius Mickle, the translator of the Lusiad, and published in Evan's Ancient Ballads. The Author of Waverley's admiration of the ballad induced him to found, on the same incidents, the popular Romance of Kenilworth.

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The moone (sweet regente of the sky,)
Silvered the walls of Cumnor Halle,

And many an oake that grew therebye.

Now noughte was hearde beneathe the skies,
(The soundes of busye life were stille,)
Save an unhappie ladie's sighes

That issued from that lonely pile.

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'Leicester,' shee cried, is thys thy love
That thou so oft has sworne to mee,
To leave mee in this lonely grove,
Immured in shameful privitie ?'

No more thou com'st with lover's speede,
Thy once-beloved bryde to see ;

But bee she alive, or bee she deade,

I feare (sterne earle's) the same to thee.

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