No More Learning

Her dam inhabits yonder cavern shady,
A witch of shame,
Who shrieks o' nights upon the Haunted Tower,
With horrors piled--
Oh! this chill wind, etc.

"Sing on and leap--enjoying all the favors
Good heaven sends;
She, too, was young--her lips had peachy savors
With honey blends;
Give to that hag--not always old--a penny,
Though crime-defiled--
Oh! this chill wind, etc.

"The queen beside her looked a wench uncomely,
When, near to-night,
She proudly stalked a-past the maids so homely,
In bodice tight
And collar old as reign of wicked Julian,
By fiend beguiled--
Oh! this chill wind, etc.

"The king himself proclaimed her peerless beauty
Before the court,
And held it were to win a kiss his duty
To give a fort,
Or, more, to sign away all bright Dorado,
Tho' gold-plate tiled--
Oh! this chill wind, etc.

"Love her? at least, I know I am most lonely
Without her nigh;
I'm but a hound to follow her, and only
At her feet die.
I'd gayly spend of toilsome years a dozen--
A felon styled--
Oh! this chill wind, etc.

"One summer day when long--so long? I'd missed her,
She came anew,
To play i' the fount alone but for her sister,
And bared to view
The finest, rosiest, most tempting ankle,
Like that of child--
Oh! this chill wind, etc.
"When I beheld her, I--a lowly shepherd--
Grew in my mind
Till I was Caesar--she that crowned leopard
He crouched behind,
No Roman stern, but in her silken leashes
A captive mild--
Oh! this chill wind, etc.

"Yet dance and sing, tho' night be thickly falling;--
In selfsame time
Poor Sabine heard in ecstasy the calling,
In winning rhyme,
Of Saldane's earl so noble, ay, and wealthy,
Name e'er reviled--
Oh! this chill wind, etc.

"(Let me upon this bench be shortly resting,
So weary, I! )
That noble bore her smiling, unresisting,
By yonder high
And ragged road that snakes towards the summit
Where crags are piled--
Oh! this chill wind, etc.

"I saw her pass beside my lofty station--
A glance--'twas all!
And yet I loathe my daily honest ration,
The air's turned gall!
My soul's in chase, my body chafes to wander--
My dagger's filed--
Oh! this chill wind may change, and o'er the mountain
May drive me wild! "

HENRY L. WILLIAMS.





GUITAR SONG.

_("Comment, disaient-ils. ")_

[XXIII.