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Lord William leaped into the boat,
"Haste-haste to yonder shore!
And ample wealth shall well reward,
Ply swift and strong the oar."-

The boatman plied the oar, the boat
Went light along the stream;
Sudden Lord William heard a cry
Like Edmund's drowning scream.

The boatman paus'd,-" Methought I heard A child's distressful cry!

-" "T was but the howling wind of night," Lord William made reply.

"Haste, haste-ply swift and strong the oar! Haste haste across the stream!

Again Lord William heard a cry
Like Edmund's drowning scream.

"I heard a child's distressful scream,"-
The boatman cried again.

"Nay, hasten on-the night is dark-
And we should search in vain."-

-"Oh God! Lord William, dost thou know

How dreadful 'tis to die?

And canst thou without pity hear

A child's expiring cry?"

"How horrible it is to sink

Beneath the chilly stream,

To stretch the powerless arms in vain,
In vain for help to scream?"

The shriek again was heard. It came
More deep, more piercing loud;
That instant o'er the flood the moon
Shone through a broken cloud.

And near them they beheld a child,
Upon a crag he stood,

A little crag, and all around

Was spread the rising flood.

The boatman plied the oar, the boat
Approached his resting place,

The moon-beam shone upon the child,

And showed how pale his face.

"Now reach thine hand!" the boatman cried,

Lord William, reach and save!"

The child stretched forth his little hands,

To grasp the hand he gave.

Then William shrieked: the hand he touched

Was cold, and damp, and dead!

He felt young Edmund in his arms,
A heavier weight than lead.

The boat sunk down, the murderer sunk
Beneath the avenging stream;
He rose, he screamed-no human ear
Heard William's drowning scream.

SOUTHEY.

CLVIII

HUNTING SONG.

Waken, lords and ladies gay,

On the mountain dawns the day,

All the jolly chase is here,

With hawk, and horse, and hunting spear;
Hounds are in their couples yelling,

Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling,
Merrily, merrily, mingle they,

"Waken, lords and ladies gay

Waken, lords and ladies gay,

י !

The mist has left the mountain gray,
Springlets in the dawn are steaming,
Diamonds on the brake are gleaming;
And foresters have busy been,
To track the buck in thicket green;
Now we come to chant our lay,
"Waken, lords and ladies gay !

Waken, lords and ladies gay,
To the green-wood haste away;

We can show you where he lies,
Fleet of foot, and tall of size ;

We can show the marks he made,
When 'gainst the oak his antlers frayed;
You shall see him brought to bay,-

66 Waken, lords and ladies

Louder, louder chant the lay,
Waken, lords and ladies gay!

gay

י !

Tell them youth, and mirth and glee,
Run a course as well as we;

Time, stern huntsman! who can baulk,
Stanch as hound, and fleet as hawk;

Think of this, and rise with day,

Gentle lords and ladies

gay !

SIR W. SCOTT.

CLIX

CHILDE HAROLD'S GOOD-NIGHT.

Adieu, adieu ! my native shore
Fades o'er the waters blue;
The night-winds sigh, the breakers roar,
And shrieks the wild sea-mew.

Yon Sun that sets upon the sea
We follow in his flight:
Farewell awhile to him and thee,

My native land-Good-night!

"A few short hours, and he will rise
To give the morrow birth;
And I shall hail the main and skies,
But not my mother earth.
Deserted is my own good hall,

Its hearth is desolate;

Wild weeds are gathering on the wall;
My dog howls at the gate.

"Come hither, hither, my little page,
Why dost thou weep and wail ?
Or dost thou dread the billow's rage,
Or tremble at the gale?

But dash the tear-drop from thine eye;

Our ship is swift and strong:

Our fleetest falcon scarce can fly

More merrily along."

"Let winds be shrill, let waves roll high,

I fear not wave nor wind:

Yet marvel not, Sir Childe, that I

Am sorrowful in mind;

For I have from my father gone,
A mother whom I love,
And have no friend, save these alone,
But thee-and One above.

"My father blessed me fervently,

Yet did not much complain; But sorely will my mother sigh

Till I come back again."

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