Come with me, love, Madame, let her live I have a far-off burrow where the King EL. How sayst thou, sweetheart? Wilt thou go with him? He will marry thee. No, no! I will not have it. Then this other, EL. It must be broken for him. Ros. OI see now Your purpose is to fright me—a troubadour, No! EL. Play! That bosom never The child Heaved under the King's hand with such true passion Which it will quench in blood! Slave, if he love thee And dash thyself against me that I may slay thee! Has wheedled it off the King's neck to her own. I warrant Thou hast sworn on this, my cross, a hundred times False oath on holy cross-for thou must leave him The running down the chase is kindlier sport Ev'n than the death. Who knows but that thy lover May plead so pitifully, that I may spare thee? Come hither, man; stand there. [To ROSAMUND.] Take thy one chance; Catch at the last straw. Kneel to thy lord Fitzurse; Crouch even because thou hatest him; fawn upon him Ros. [rising]. I am a Clifford, I am to die, then, tho' there stand beside thee And I will fly with my sweet boy to heaven, I challenge thee to meet me before God. EL. [raising the dagger.] This in thy bosom, fool! [Enter BECKET from behind. Catches hold of her arm.] BECKET. Murderess! [The dagger falls; they stare at one another. After a pause:] EL. My lord, we know you proud of your fine hand, But having now admired it long enough, We find that it is mightier than it seems At least mine own is frailer-you are laming it. BECKET. And lamed and maim'd to dislocation, better Than raised to take a life which Henry bade me Guard from the stroke that dooms thee after death To wail in deathless flame. [To ROSAMUND.] Daughter, the world hath trick'd thee. Leave it, daughter, Come thou with me to Godstow nunnery, Lord Tennyson. COLUMBUS. Behind him lay the gray Azores, "My men grow mutinous day by day; My men grow ghastly wan and weak." The stout mate thought of home; a spray Of salt wave washed his swarthy cheek. "What shall I say, brave Admiral, say, If we sight naught but seas at dawn?" "Why, you shall say at break of day, 'Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!'"' They sailed and sailed, as winds might blow For God from these dread seas is gone. They sailed. They sailed. Then spoke the mate: "This mad sea shows its teeth to-night. He curls his lip, he lies in wait, With lifted teeth, as if to bite! Brave Admiral, say but one good word: Then, pale and worn, he kept his deck, It grew, a starlit flag unfurled! It grew to be Time's burst of dawn. Joaquin Miller. LORRAINE. "Are you ready for your steeplechase, Lorraine, Lorraine, Lorree? You're booked to ride your capping race to-day at Coulterlee, You 're booked to ride Vindictive, for all the world to see, To keep him straight, and keep him first, and win the run for me. She clasped her new-born baby, poor Lorraine, Lorraine, Lorree. "I cannot ride Vindictive, as any man might see, And I will not ride Vindictive, with this baby on my knee; He's killed a boy, he 's killed a man, and why must he kill me?" "Unless you ride Vindictive, Lorraine, Lorraine, Lorree, Unless you ride Vindictive to-day at Coulterlee, And land him safe across the brook, and win the blank for me, It's you may keep your baby, for you 'll get no keep from me." "That husbands could be cruel," said Lorraine, Lorraine, Lorree, "That husbands could be cruel, I have known for seasons three; But oh! to ride Vindictive while a baby cries for me, And be killed across a fence at last, for all the world to see?" She mastered young Vindictive-ol! the gallant lass was she! And she kept him straight, and won the race, as near as near could be; But he killed her at the brook against a pollard willow tree, Oh! he killed her at the brook-the brute!-for all the world to see, And no one but the baby cried for poor Lorraine, Lorree. Charles Kingsley. LADY CLARA VERE DE VERE. Lady Clara Vere de Vere, Of me you shall not win renown: Lady Clara Vere de Vere, I know you proud to bear your name, Too proud to care from whence I came. Is worth a hundred coats-of-arms. Lady Clara Vere de Vere, Some meeker pupil you must find, I could not stoop to such a mind. |