Yes, thou must go! the wild free breeze, the brilliant sun and sky,

Thy master's home-from all of these my exiled one must fly:

Thy proud dark eye will grow less proud, thy step become less fleet,

And vainly shalt thou arch thy neck thy master's hand to meet.

Only in sleep shall I behold that dark eye glancing bright,

Only in sleep shall hear again that step so firm and light;

And when I raise my dreaming arm to check or cheer thy speed,

Then must I starting wake, to feel-thou'rt sold, my Arab steed.

Ah! rudely then, unseen by me, some cruel hand may chide,

Till foam-wreaths lie, like crested waves, along thy panting side:

And the rich blood that is in thee swells in thy indignant pain,

Till careless eyes which rest on thee may count each started vein.

Will they ill-use thee? If I thought-but no, it cannot be;

Thou art so swift, yet easy curbed; so gentle, yet so free:

And yet if haply, when thou'rt gone, my lonely heart should yearn,

Can the hand which casts thee from it now command thee to return?

Return! alas, my Arab steed! what shall the master do,

When thou who wert his all of joy hast vanished from his view?

When the dim distance cheats mine eye, and through the gathering tears

Thy bright form for a moment like the false mirage appears ?

Slow and unmounted will I

alone,

roam, with weary foot

Where with fleet step and joyous bound, thou oft hast borne me on;

And sitting down by the green well, I'll pause, and sadly think,

"It was here he bowed his glossy neck when last I saw him drink!”

When last I saw thee drink!—away! the fevered dream is o'er;

I could not live a day and know that we should meet

no more.

They tempted me, my beautiful! for hunger's power is strong

They tempted me, my beautiful! but I have loved too long.

Who said that I had given thee up? Who said that thou wert sold?

"Tis false!-'tis false, my Arab steed! I fling them back their gold!

Thus, thus, I leap upon thy back, and scour the distant plains;

Away! who overtakes us now shall claim thee for his

pains!

HON. MRS. NORTON.

THE VAMPIRE.

vampire muttering examining happened hammock remarking somewhat gentleman

"I went to the river with a Scotch gentleman. We hung our hammocks in the thatched loft of a planter's house. Next morning I heard this gentleman muttering in his hammock. What is the matter, sir,' said I, softly; 'is anything amiss?' 'What's the matter?' answered he, surlily; 'why, the vampires have been sucking me to death.' As soon as there was light enough, I went to his hammock, and saw it much stained with blood. "There,' said he, thrusting his foot out of his hammock, 'see how they have been drawing my life's blood.'

"On examining his foot, I found the vampire had tapped his great toe. There was a wound somewhat less than that made by a leech; the blood was still oozing from it; I guessed he might have lost from ten to twelve ounces of blood. Whilst examining it, I think I put him into a worse humour by remarking, that a surgeon would not have been so generous as to have bled him without making a charge. looked up in my face, but did not say a word. I saw he was of opinion that I had better have spared this piece of ill-timed levity.

He

"I had often wished to have been sucked by the vampire, in order that I might have it in my power to say it had really happened to me. There can be no pain in the operation, for the patient is always asleep when the vampire is sucking him, and as for the loss of a few ounces of blood, that would be a trifle in the long-run.

galloped

chaise

replied

furnished

allowed

grieved

balanco

balcony

neighbour

tollman

scampering pursuit

John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear,

66

Though wedded we have been

These twice ten tedious years, yet we
No holiday have seen.'

"To-morrow is cur wedding-day,
And we will then repair
Unto the Bell at Edmonton,
All in a chaise and pair."

"My sister and my sister's child,
Myself and children three,
Will fill the chaise, so you must ride
On horseback after we."

He soon replied, “I do admire
Of womankind but one;
And you are she, my dearest dear,
Therefore it shall be done."

"I am a linen-draper bold,

As all the world doth know,

And my good friend the calender,
Will lend his horse to go."

Quoth Mrs. Gilpin, "That's well said;
And, for that wine is dear,
We will be furnished with our own,

Which is both bright and clear."

The morning came, the chaise was brought,
But yet was not allowed
To drive up to the door, lest all

Should say that she was proud.

So three doors off the chaise was stayed,
Where they did all get in;

Six precious souls, and all agog,

To dash through thick and thin.

Smack went the whip, round went the wheels,

Were ever folks so glad;

The stones did rattle underneath,

As if Cheapside were mad.

John Gilpin at his horse's side,

Seized fast the flowing mane;

And up he got in haste to ride,
But soon came down again.

For saddle-tree scarce reached had he,
His journey to begin,

When, turning round his head, he saw
Three customers come in.

So down he came; for loss of time,
Although it grieved him sore,
Yet loss of pence, full well he knew,
Would trouble him much more.

'Twas long before the customers Were suited to their mind;

When Betty, screaming, came down stairs, "The wine was left behind!'