now the heavy wrath of God on their uncle fell;

fearful fiends did haunt his house, 5 conscience felt an hell:

arns were fired, his goods consumed, s lands were barren made, attle died within the field, d nothing with him stayed.

in the voyage to Portugal 'o of his sons did die;

to conclude, himself was brought
want and misery.

awn'd and mortgaged all his land
e seven years came about,
now at length this wicked act
d by this means come out :

fellow that did take in hand
ese children for to kill,
for a robbery judged to die,
ch was God's blessed will.
did confess the very truth,
here hath been display'd:
uncle having died in gaol,
here he for debt was laid.

that executors be made, nd overseers eke

hildren that be fatherless,
nd infants mild and meek;
e you example by this thing,
nd yield to each his right,
God with such like misery
our wicked minds requite.

Old Ballad

When t

And The fro

LVII

ROBIN REDBREAST

Good-bye, good-bye to Summer!
For Summer's nearly done;
The garden smiling faintly,
Cool breezes in the sun;

Our thrushes now are silent,

Our swallows flown away,

But Robin's here in coat of brown,
And scarlet breast-knot gay.
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!

Robin sings so sweetly

In the falling of the year.

Bright yellow, red, and orange,

The leaves come down in hosts;

The trees are Indian princes,

But soon they'll turn to ghosts;
The leathery pears and apples

Hang russet on the bough;
Its Autumn, Autumn, Autumn late,
"Twill soon be Winter now.
Robin, Robin Redbreast,

O Robin dear!

And what will this poor Robin do?
For pinching days are near.

The fire-side for the cricket,

The wheatstack for the mouse,

O, when the moon shines, and the dogs do howl,
Then, then is the cry of the horned owl !

Mourn not for the owl nor his gloomy plight!
The owl hath his share of good :

If a prisoner he be in the broad daylight,
He is lord in the dark green wood!

Nor lonely the bird, nor his ghastly mate;
They are each unto each a pride-

Thrice fonder, perhaps, since a strange dark fate
Hath rent them from all beside !

So when the night falls, and dogs do howl,
Sing Ho! for the reign of the horned owl!

We know not alway who are kings by day,
But the king of the night is the bold brown owl.

LIX

HART LEAP WELL

PART I

B. Cornwall

The Knight had ridden down from Wensley Moor,
With the slow motion of a summer's cloud,
And now, as he approach'd a vassal's door,
Bring forth another horse!' he cried aloud.

'Another horse!' that shout the vassal heard,
And saddled his best steed, a comely grey;
Sir Walter mounted him; he was the third
Which he had mounted on that glorious day.

Joy sparkled in the prancing courser's eyes;

The horse and horseman are a happy pair ;
But though Sir Walter like a falcon flies,
There is a doleful silence in the air.

s morning left Sir Walter's Hall,
ey galloped made the echoes roar ;
and man are vanished, one and all;
I think, was never seen before.

, restless as a veering wind, e few tired dogs that yet remain ; Swift, and Music, noblest of their kind, d up the weary mountain strain.

nt halloed, he cheered and chid them on liant gestures and upbraidings stern; and eyesight fail; and, one by one, are stretched among the mountain fern.

the throng, the tumult of the race? s that so joyfully were blown?

e, it looks not like an earthly chase : r and the Hart are left alone.

Hart toils along the mountain-side; stop to tell how far he fled,

I mention by what death he died; the Knight beholds him lying dead.

ting, then, he leaned against a thorn;
o follower, dog, nor man, nor boy:
er cracked his whip nor blew his horn,
upon the spoil with silent joy.

the thorn on which Sir Walter leaned,
dumb partner in this glorious feat;
a lamb the hour that it is yeaned,
ce with foam as if with cleaving sleet: