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When his good father brought my Lady home,
And when the young Squire was born, it did me good
To hear the bells so merrily announce
An heir. This is indeed a heavy blow-
I feel it Gregory, heavier than the weight
Of threescore years. He was a noble lad,
I loved him dearly.

GREGORY.

Every body loved him,
Such a fine, generous, open-hearted Youth !
When he came home from school at holydays,
How I rejoiced to see him ! he was sure
To come and ask of me what birds there were
About

my

fields ; and when I found a covey,
There's not a testy Squire preserves his game
More charily, than I have kept them safe
For Master Edward.' And he look'd so well
Upon a fine sharp morning after them,
His brown hair frosted, and his cheek so flush'd
With such a wholesome ruddiness -ah James
But he was sadly changed when he came down
To keep his birth-day.

JAMES.

Changed ! why Gregory, 'Twas like a palsy to me, when he stepp'd

Out of the carriage. He was grown so thin,
His cheek so delicate sallow, and his eyes
Had such a dim and rakish hollowness ;
And when he came to shake me by the hand
And spoke as kindly to me as he used,
I hardly knew the voice.

GREGORY

It struck a damp On all our merriment. 'Twas a noble Ox That smoak'd before us, and the old October Went merrily in overflowing cans ; But 'twas a skin-deep merriment. My heart Seem'd as it took no share. And when we drank His health, the thought came over me what cause We had for wishing that, and spoilt the draught. Poor Gentleman ! to think ten months ago He came of age-and now !

JAMES.

I fear'd it then, He look'd to me as one that was not long For this world's business.

GREGORY.

When the Doctor sent him Abroad to try the air, it made me certain That all was over. There's but little hope

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Methinks that foreign parts can help a man
When his own mother-country will not do.
The last time he came down, these bells rung so
I thought they would have rock'd the old steeple down ;
And now that dismal toll! I would have staid
Beyond its reach, but this was a last duty,
I am an old tenant of the family,
Born on the estate, and now, that I've out-lived it,
Why 'tis but right to see it to the grave.
Have you heard aught of the new Squire ?

JAMES.

But little,
And that not well. But be he what he may
Matters not much to me. The love I bore
To the good family will not easily fix
Upon a stranger. What's on the opposite hill ?
Is it not the funeral ?

GREGORY,

'Tis I think, some horsemen. Aye ! there are the black cloaks ; and now I see The white plumes on the herse.

JAMES.

Between the trees;

Tis hid behind them now..

GREGORY.

Aye ! now we see it, And there's the coaches following, we shall meet About the bridge. Would that this day were over! I wonder whose turn's next!

JAMES.

God above knows ! When youth is summon’d what must age expect ! God make us ready Gregory! when it comes.

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ODE TO ST. MICHAEL's MOUNT,

IN CORNWALL.

The sober eve with purple bright
Sheds o'er the hills her tranquil light

In many a lingering ray ;
The radiance trembles on the deep,
Where rises rough thy rugged steep,

Old Michael, from the sea.

Around thy base in azure pride,
Flows the silver-crested tide,

In gently winding waves ;
The zephyr creeps thy cliffs around,
Thy cliffs, with whispering ivy crown'd,

And.murmurs in thy caves.

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