She is coming, my own, my sweet; Would start and tremble under her feet, Alfred Tennyson *120* TELLING THE BEES. Here is the place; right over the hill You can see the gap in the old wall still, And the stepping-stones in the shallow brook. There is the house, with the gate red-barred, And the barn's brown length, and the cattle-yard, There are the bee-hives ranged in the sun; Of the brook are her poor flowers, weed-o'errun, A year has gone, as the tortoise goes, And the same rose blows, and the same sun glows There's the same sweet clover-smell in the breeze And the June sun warm Tangles his wings of fire in the trees, Setting as then, over Fernside farm. I mind me how with a lover's care From my Sunday coat I brushed off the burrs, and smoothed my hair, And cooled at the brook-side my brow and throat. Since we parted, a month had passed, To love, a year; Down through the beeches I looked at last On the little red gate and the well sweep near. I can see it all now,-the slantwise rain The sundown's blaze on her window-pane, Just the same as a month before,— The barn's brown gable, the vine by the door,- Before them under the garden wall, Forward and back, Went drearily singing the chore-girl small, Trembling I listened; the summer sun Had the chill of snow; For I knew she was telling the bees of one Then I said to myself, "My Mary weeps Haply her blind old grandsire sleeps The fret and pain of his age away. ’ But her dog whined low; on the doorway sill, The old man sat; and the chore-girl still Sung to the bees stealing out and in. And the song she was singing, ever since 66 Stay at home, pretty bees, fly not hence! John G. Whittier. Flower in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies ;- Alfred Tennyson. * 122. ROBIN HOOD AND THE BISHOP OF HEREFORD. Some will talk of bold Robin Hood, And some of barons bold; But I'll tell you how he served the bishop of Hereford, When he robbed him of his gold. As it befel in merry Barnsdale, All under the greenwood tree, The bishop of Hereford was to come by, With all his company. "Come kill me a ven'son," said bold Robin Hood, The bishop of Hereford is to dine with me to-day, "We'll kill a fat ven'son," said bold Robin Hood, And we will watch the bishop narrowly, Robin Hood dressed himself in shepherd's attire, With six of his men also; And, when the bishop of Hereford came by, They about the fire did go. "O what is the matter?" then said the bishop, "Or for whom do you make this ado? Or why do you kill the king's ven'son, "We are shepherds," said bold Robin Hood, And we are disposed to be merry this day, "You are brave fellows," said the bishop, "And the king of your doings shall know ; Therefore make haste and come along with me, For before the king you shall go." "O pardon, O pardon," said bold Robin Hood, "O pardon, I thee pray! For it becomes not your lordship's coat To take so many lives away." "No pardon, no pardon," said the bishop, "No pardon I thee owe; Therefore make haste and come along with me, For before the king you shall go." Then Robin set his back against a tree, And from underneath his shepherd's coat. He put the little end to his mouth, And a loud blast did he blow, Till three score and ten of bold Robin's men All making obeisance to bold Robin Hood; 'Twas a comely sight for to see. "What is the matter, master?" said Little John, "That you blow so hastily?" "O here is the bishop of Hereford, And no pardon we shall have : "Cut off his head, master," said Little John, "And throw him into his grave." "O pardon, O pardon," said the bishop, "O pardon, I thee pray! For if I had known it had been you, I'd have gone some other way." "No pardon, no pardon," said bold Robin Hood, "No pardon I thee owe; Therefore make haste and come along with me Then Robin he took the bishop by the hand, He made him to stay and sup with him that night, "Call in a reckoning," said the bishop, "For methinks it grows wondrous high: "Lend me your purse, master, "said Little John, "And I'll tell you by and by." Then Little John took the bishop's cloak, And spread it upon the ground, And out of the bishop's portmanteau He took three hundred pound. "Here's money enough, master," said Little John, "And a comely sight 'tis to see; It makes me in charity with the bishop, |