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He pierced her brother to the heart,

Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall:So perish all would true love part,

That Love may still be lord of all!

And then he took the cross divine,

(Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,) And died for her sake in Palestine, So Love was still the lord of all.

Now all ye lovers, that faithful prove,
(The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,)
Pray for their souls who died for love,
For Love shall still be lord of all!

THE BROOK.

LORD TENNYSON.

I come from haunts of coot and hern,
I make a sudden sally,
And sparkle out among the fern
To bicker down a valley.

By thirty hills I hurry down,

Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorps, a little town,

And half a hundred bridges.

Till last by Philip's farm I flow
To join the brimming river,

For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.

I chatter over stony ways,
In little sharps and trebles,
I bubble into eddying bays,
I babble on the pebbles.

With many a curve my banks I fret,
By many a field and fallow,
And many a fairy foreland set
With willow-weed and mallow.

I chatter, chatter, as I flow

To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.

I wind about, and in and out,

With here a blossom sailing,

And here and there a lusty trout,
And here and there a grayling,

And here and there a foamy flake
Upon me, as I travel,

With many a silvery water-break
Above the golden gravel,

And draw them all along, and flow
To join the brimming river;
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.

I steal by lawns and grassy plots,
I slide by hazel covers;
I move the sweet forget-me-nots,
That grow for happy lovers.

I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, Among my skimming swallows; I make the netted sunbeam dance Against my sandy shallows.

I murmur under moon and stars
In brambly wildernesses;
I linger by my shingly bars,
I loiter round my cresses;

And out again I curve and flow
To join the brimming river,

For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.

A YEAR'S SPINNING.

ELIZABETH B. BROWNING.

He listened at the porch that day,
To hear the wheel go on, and on;
And then it stopped, ran back away,
While through the door he brought the sun:
But now my spinning is all done.

He sat beside me, with an oath
That love ne'er ended, once begun:
I smiled-believing for us both,
What was the truth for only one.
And now my spinning is all done.

My mother cursed me that I heard

A young man's wooing as I spun: Thanks, cruel mother, for that word,For I have, since, a harder known! And now my spinning is all done.

I thought-O God!-my first-born's cry
Both voices to mine ear would drown:

I listened in mine agony-

It was the silence made me groan!
And now my spinning is all done.

Bury me 'twixt my mother's grave
(Who cursed me on her death-bed lone)
And my dead baby's (God it save!)
Who, not to bless me, would not moan.
And now my spinning is all done.

A stone upon my heart and head,
But no name written on the stone!
Sweet neighbors, whisper low instead,
"This sinner was a loving one
And now her spinning is all done.”

And let the door ajar remain,

In case he should pass by anon;
And leave the wheel out very plain,—
That HE, when passing in the sun,
May see the spinning is all done.

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QUESTIONS.

CORA FABRI.

What would the rose do without the sun

And his golden fingers to spread her apart? What would the rose do without the dew, Nestling deep in her fragrant heart?

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