Then Mary could feel the heart-blood curdle cold;
Again the rough wind hurried by-

It blew off the hat of the one, and behold,
Even close to the feet of poor Mary it roll'd,—
She felt, and expected to die.

'Curse the hat!' he exclaims. Nay, come on till we hide

The dead body,' his comrade replies.

She beholds them in safety pass on by her side,
She seizes the hat, fear her courage supplied,
And fast through the Abbey she flies.

She ran with wild speed, she rush'd in at the door, She gazed in her terror around,

Then her limbs could support their faint burden no

more,

And exhausted and breathless she sank on the floor, Unable to utter a sound.

Ere yet her pale lips could the story impart,
For a moment the hat met her view;

Her eyes from that object convulsively start,
For-what a cold horror then thrill'd through her
heart

When the name of her Richard she knew!

Where the old Abbey stands, on the Common hard by,
His gibbet is now to be seen;

His irons you still from the road may espy;
The traveller beholds them, and thinks with a sigh
Of poor Mary, the Maid of the Inn.

R. Southey

CV

THE WITCHES MEETING

Ist Witch. When shall we three meet again
In thunder, lightning, or in rain ?
2d Witch. When the hurly-burley's done,
When the battle's lost or won:

3d Witch. That will be ere set of sun.
Ist Witch. Where the place?

2d Witch.

Upon the heath ;

3d Witch. There to meet with Macbeth.

Ist Witch. I come Grimalkin!

All.

Paddock calls :-anon

Fair is foul, and foul is fair;
Hover through the fog and filthy air.

THE CHARM

1st Witch. Thrice the brinded cat hath mewed.
2d Witch. Thrice: and once the hedgehog whined.
3d Witch. Harpier cries :-'Tis time, 'tis time:
1st Witch. Round about the caldron go:

In the poison'd entrails throw.
Toad, that under the cold stone,
Days and nights hast thirty-one
Swelter'd venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i' the charmed pot!
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and, caldron, bubble.
2d Witch. Fillet of a fenny snake,

All.

In the caldron boil and bake;

All

Eye of newt, and toe of frog, Wool of bat, and tongue of dog, Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting, Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing, For a charm of powerful trouble; Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn, and, caldron, bubble. 3d Witch. Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf ; Witches' mummy; maw and gulf Of the ravin'd salt sea shark; Root of hemlock, digged i' the dark; Liver of blaspheming Jew; Gall of goat, and slips of yew Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse; Nose of Turk, and Tartar's lips; Add thereto a tiger's chaudron, For the ingredients of our caldron. Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn, and, caldron, bubble. 2d Witch. Cool it with a baboon's blood, Then the charm is firm and good.

All.

W. Shakespeare

CVI

ADELGITHA

The ordeal's fatal trumpet sounded,
And sad pale Adelgitha came,
When forth a valiant champion bounded,
And slew the slanderer of her fame.

She wept, deliver'd from her danger;
But when he knelt to claim her glove—
'Seek not,' she cried, 'oh! gallant stranger,
For hapless Adelgitha's love.

‘For he is in a foreign far land

Whose arms should now have set me free ; And I must wear the willow garland For him that's dead or false to me.'

'Nay! say not that his faith is tainted!'
He raised his vizor-at the sight
She fell into his arms and fainted;
It was indeed her own true knight!

T. Campbell

CVII

THE COUNCIL OF HORSES

Upon a time a neighing steed,

Who graz'd among a numerous breed,
With mutiny had fired the train,

And spread dissension through the plain.
On matters that concern'd the state,
The council met in grand debate.
A colt whose eyeballs flamed with ire,
Elate with strength and youthful fire,
In haste stept forth before the rest,
And thus the listening throng address'd.
'Goodness, how abject is our race,
Condemn'd to slavery and disgrace!

Shall we our servitude retain,

Because our sires have borne the chain?

Consider, friends! your strength and might; 'Tis conquest to assert your right.

How cumbrous is the gilded coach!
The pride of man is our reproach.

Were we design'd for daily toil,

To drag the ploughshare through the soil,
To sweat in harness through the road,
Το groan beneath the carrier's load?
How feeble are the two-legg'd kind!
What force is in our nerves combin'd!
Shall then our nobler jaws submit
To foam and champ the galling bit?
Shall haughty man my back bestride?
Shall the sharp spur provoke my side?
Forbid it, heavens ! reject the rein;
Your shame, your infamy, disdain.
Let him the lion first control,
And still the tiger's famish'd growl.
Let us, like them, our freedom claim,
And make him tremble at our name.'
A general nod approv'd the cause,
And all the circle neigh'd applause.
When, lo! with grave and solemn pace,
A steed advanc'd before the race,
With age and long experience wise;
Around he cast his thoughtful eyes,

And, to the murmurs of the train,
Thus spoke the Nestor of the plain.

'When I had health and strength like you

The toils of servitude I knew ;

Now grateful man rewards my pains,

And gives me all these wide domains.