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Her face was like the April morn,
Clad in a wintry cloud;
That held the sable shroud.
When youth and years are flown : Such is the robe that kings must wear
When death has reft their crown.
Her bloom was like the springing flower
That sips the silver dew;
And opening to the view.
But Love had, like the canker-worm,
Consumed her early prime; The rose grew pale, and left her cheek;
She died before her time. “ Awake! (she cried) thy true love calls,
Come from her midnight grave; Now let thy pity hear the maid
Thy love refused to save : “ This is the dark and fearful hour .
When injured ghosts complain ; Now dreary graves give up their dead,
To haunt the faithless swain, “ Bethink thee, William, of thy fault,
Thy pledge, and broken oath; And give me back my maiden vow,
And give me back my troth. “ How could you say my face was fair,
And yet that face forsake?
Yet leave that heart to break ?
“ How could you promise love to me,
And not that promise keep?
Yet leave those eyes to weep?
And made the scarlet pale ?
Believe the flattering tale ?
That lip no longer red ;
And every charm is filed.
“ The hungry worm my sister is ;
This winding-sheet I wear;
Till that last morn appear.
" But hark! the cock has warned me hence :
A long and last adieu !
That died for love of you.”
And shew her glittering head :
Then raving left his bed. He hied him to the fatal place
Where Margaret's body lay, And stretched him on the green-grass turf,
That wrapt her breathless clay :
And thrice he wept full sore :
And word spoke never more.
OTHELLO'S APOLOGY. Most potent, grave, and reverend Signiors, My very noble and approved good masters ; That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter, It is most true ; true, I have married her ; The very head and front of my offending . Hath this extent; no more. Rude am I in speech, And little blessed with the set phrase of peace; For, since these arms of mine had seven years' pith, Till now, some nine moons wasted, they have used Their dearest action in the tented field; And little of this great world can I speak, More than pertains to feats of broils and battles ; And therefore little shall I grace my cause In speaking for myself. Yet, by your patience, I will a round unvarnished tale deliver Of my whole course of love ; what drugs, what charms, What conjuration, and what mighty magic, (For such proceedings I am charged withal) I won his daughter with.
Her father loved me, oft invited me, Still questioned me the story of my life, From year to year; the battles, sieges, fortunes, That I have past.I ran it through, even from my boyish days To the very moment that he bade me tell it. Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances ; Of moving accidents by flood and field; Of hair-breadth 'scapes i’ the imminent deadly breach ; Of being taken by the insolent foe And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence, And with it all my travel's history; Wherein of antres vast, and deserts wild, Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch
It was my hint to speak.-All these to hear
THE FARMER AND THE COUNSELLOR. A COUNSEL in the Common Pleas,
Who was esteemed a mighty wit,
Upon the strength of a chance hit,
Women, or other timid folks ;
Who by his uncouth look and gait,
Appeared expressly meant by Fate,
In the back rows,
Until our wag should draw the cork,
And went to work. • Well, Farmer Numskull, how go calves at York ?"
“ Why-not, Sir, as they do with you,
But on four legs instead of two."
Do pray keep silence down below there;
“Yees- very like-I often go there.”
On circuit was at York residing.
In the West Riding ?”