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And talk'd old matters over ; who was dead,
Who married, who was like to be, and how
The races went, and who would rent the hall :
Then touch'd upon the game, how scarce it was
This season ; glancing thence, discuss'd the farm,
The fourfield system, and the price of grain ;
And struck upon the corn-laws, where we split,
“Oh! who would fight and march and counter
Be shot for sixpence in a battle-field,
“ Oh! who would cast and balance at a desk,
Perch'd like a crow upon a three-legg'd stool,
Till all his juice is dried, and all his joints
Are full of chalk? but let me live my life.
“ Who'd serve the state? for if I carved my name
Upon the cliffs that guard my native land,
The sea wastes all : but let me live my life.
“Oh! who would love? I woo'd a woman once,
But she was sharper than an eastern wind,
He sang his song, and I replied with mine:
I found it in a volume, all of songs,
Knock'd down to me, when old Sir Robert's pride,
His books—the more the pity, so I said — .
Came to the hammer here in March--and this
I set the words, and added names I knew.
Sleep, Ellen Aubrey, sleep, and dream of me: Sleep, Ellen, folded in thy sister's arm,
And sleeping, haply dream her arm is mine.
Sleep, Ellen, folded in Emilia's arm;
Emilia, fairer than all else but thou,
For thou art fairer than all else that is.
Sleep, breathing health and peace upon her
Sleep, breathing love and trust against her lip:
I go to-night: I come to-morrow morn.
“ I go, but I return: I would I were The pilot of the darkness and the dream. Sleep, Ellen Aubrey, love, and dream of me."
So sang we each to either, Francis Hale,
The farmer's son, who lived across the bay,
My friend ; and I, that having wherewithal,
Did what I would; but ere the night we rose
And saunter'd home beneath a moon, that, just
In crescent, dimly rain'd about the leaf
The limit of the hills; and as we sank
From rock to rock upon the glooming quay,
The town was hush'd beneath us : lower dowr.
The bay was oily calm; the harbour-buoy,