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No, — on the wings of air
Might I be left to fly,
A waif of earth and sky!
Or flung upon the stream,
Curld like a fairy boat,
To the world's end to float!
Who that hath ever been,
Could bear to be no more?
He trod through life before?
On, with intense desire,
Man's spirit will move on;
COMFORT IN AFFLICTION.
Ou! Thou who dry'st the mourner's tear,
How dark this world would be,
We could not fly to Thee.
When winter comes, are flown;
Must weep those tears alone.
But Thou wilt heal that broken heart,
Which, like the plants that throw
Breathes sweetness out of woe.
When joy no longer soothes or cheers,
And even the hope that threw
Is dimm'd and vanish'd too!
Did not thy wing of love
With more than rapture's ray;
THE FUNERAL OF WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR.
AT CAEN IN NORMANDY, 1087.'
LOWLY upon his bier
The royal Conqueror lay;
Silent in war array:
· The Conqueror was buried in the church of St. Stephen, which he bad built, but his funeral was singularly interrupted. At the moment that the coffin was being lowered into the grave, a man of low degree, raising himself from the crowd, exclaimed, “ Clerks, Bishops, this land is mine; it was the site of my father's house; the man for whom you pray took it from me by force to build his church. I have not sold my ground, I have not pawned it, I have not given it; it is my right, and I claim it.
In the name of Heaven, I forbid that the body of the spoiler be placed there, and that it be covered by my Down the long minster's aisle
Crowds mutely gazing stream'd,
Through mists of incense gleam'd.
And by the torches' blaze
The stately priest had said
To the glory of the dead.
They lower'd him, with the sound
Of requiems, to repose ;
A solemn voice arose :
“ Forbear! forbear!” it cried ;
“ In the holiest name, forbear! He hath conquer'd regions wide,
But he shall not slumber there!
“ By the violated hearth
Which made way for yon proud shrine;
Hath borne for me and mine;
“ By the house e'en here o'erthrown,
On my brethren's native spot;
Cumber our birth-place not !
glebe.” The man who spoke was named Asselin, and all the bystanders confirmed the truth of his assertions. The Bishops made him approach, and agreed to pay him sixty sous for the place of sepulture alone, and to compensate him justly for the rest of the ground.—THIERRY's Hist. of the Conquest of Eng. land by the Normans.
6 Will my sire's unransom'd field,
O’er which your censers wave, To the buried spoiler yield
Soft slumbers in the grave.
• The tree before him fell
Which we cherish'd many a year, But its deep root yet shall swell,
And heave against his bier.
“ The land that I have tillid
Hath yet its brooding breast With
home's white ashes fill'd, And it shall not give him rest!
“ Each pillar's massy bed
Hath he wet by weeping eyes Away! bestow your dead
Where no wrong against him cries." Shame glow'd on each dark face
Of those proud and steel-girt men, And they bought with gold a place
For their leader's dust e'en then.
A little earth for him
Whose banner flew so far! And a peasant's tale could dim
The name, a nation's star !
One deep voice thus arose
From a heart which wrongs had riven;
MRS. HEMANS. A MOTHER'S LOVE.
Hast thou sounded the depths of yonder sea,
Hast thou gone with the traveller, Thought, afar,
There is not a grand inspiring thought,
There are teachings in earth, in sky, and air -
Miss EMILY TAYLOR.