"But she was a poor parish girl, "A man of a bad name was he; Passion made his dark face turn white; "The man was bad, the mother worse, "Twould make your hair to stand on end, If I should tell to you, my friend, The things that were told of them! "This poor girl she had served with them Some half a year or more, When she was found hung up one day, "It is a wild and lonesome place; No hut or house is near; Should one meet a murderer there alone, "Twere vain to scream, and the dying groan Could never reach mortal ear. "And there were strange reports about; That she by her own hand had died, "They carried her upon a board In the clothes in which she died; "They laid her where these four roads meet, Here in this very place; The earth upon her corpse was prest; This post was driv'n into her breast, And a stone is on her face." SOUTHEY. 123. HYMN OF THE HEBREW MAID. WHEN Israel, of the Lord beloved, WH Out from the land of bondage came, And trump and timbrel answer'd keen; Forsaken Israel wanders lone; Our fathers would not know Thy ways, And Thou hast left them to their own. But present still, though now unseen, And oh! when stoops on Judah's path And mute are timbrel, harp, and horn: SIR WALTER SCOTT. 124. EVE'S LAMENT ON HER EXPULSION FROM PARADISE. 0 [From PARADISE LOST.] UNEXPECTED stroke, worse than of death! Must I thus leave thee, Paradise? thus leave Thee, native soil! these happy walks and shades, Fit haunt of gods? where I had hoped to spend, Quiet though sad, the respite of that day That must be mortal to us both. O flowers, That never will in other climate grow, My early visitation, and my last At eve, which I bred up with tender hand, Who now shall rear ye to the sun, or rank And wild? how shall we breathe in other air Less MILTON. Το 125. NEWSPAPERS. [From THE NEWSPAPER.] these all readers turn, and they can look Pleased on a paper, who abhor a book; Those who ne'er deign'd their Bible to peruse, Would think it hard to be denied their news! Sinners and saints, the wisest with the weak, Here mingle tastes, and one amusement seek; This, like the public inn, provides a treat, Where each promiscuous guest sits down to eat; And such this mental food, as we may call, Something to all men, and to some men all. Oh! in what rare productions shall we trace Such various subjects in so small a space! As the first ship upon the waters bore Incongruous kinds who never met before; Or as some curious virtuoso joins In one small room, moths, minerals, and coins, Birds, beasts, and fishes; nor refuses place Lo! when it comes before the cheerful fire, 126. HOME. CRABBE. [From THE TRAVELLER.] BUT where to find that happiest spot below, Who can direct, when all pretend to know? The shudd'ring tenant of the frigid zone |