VI.

Then do not fear, my boy! for thee
Bold as a lion will I be ;

And I will always be thy guide,
Through hollow snows and rivers wide.
I'll build an Indian bower; I know
The leaves that make the softest bed:
And, if from me thou wilt not go,
But still be true till I am dead,
My pretty thing! then thou shalt sing
As merry as the birds in spring.

VII.

Thy father cares not for my breast, 'Tis thine, sweet baby, there to rest; 'Tis all thine own!-and, if its hue Be changed, that was so fair to view, 'Tis fair enough for thee, my dove! My beauty, little child, is flown, But thou wilt live with me in love; And what if my poor cheek be brown? 'Tis well for me, thou canst not see How pale and wan it else would be.

VIII.

Dread not their taunts, my little Life;
I am thy father's wedded wife ;
And underneath the spreading tree
We two will live in honesty.

If his sweet boy he could forsake,
With me he never would have stayed:
From him no harm my babe can take;
But he, poor man! is wretched made;
And every day we two will pray
For him that's gone and far away.

IX.

I'll teach my boy the sweetest things;
I'll teach him how the owlet sings.

My little babe! thy lips are still,

And thou hast almost sucked thy fill.

-Where art thou gone, my own dear child?

What wicked looks are those I see?

Alas! alas! that look so wild,

It never, never came from me :
If thou art mad, my pretty lad,
Then I must be for ever sad.

X.

Oh! smile on me, my little lamb !
For I thy own dear mother am.
My love for thee has well been tried:
I've sought thy father far and wide.
I know the poisons of the shade,
I know the earth-nuts fit for food:
Then, pretty dear, be not afraid :
We'll find thy father in the wood.
Now laugh and be gay, to the woods away!
And there, my babe, we 'll live for aye."

1798.

XXXIV.

THE PRIORESS' TALE.

(FROM CHAUCER.)

"Call up him who left half told
The story of Cambuscan bold.''

In the following Poem I have allowed myself no further deviation from the original than was necessary for the fluent reading and instant understanding of the Author: so much, however, is the language altered since Chaucer's time, especially in pronunciation, that much was to be removed, and its place supplied with as little incongruity as possible. The ancient accent has been retained in a few conjunctions, as also and alwày, from a conviction that such sprinklings of antiquity would be admitted, by persons of taste, to have a graceful accordance with the subject. The fierce bigotry of the Prioress forms a fine back-ground for the tender-hearted sympathies with the Mother and Child; and the mode in which the story is told amply atones for the extravagance of the miracle.

"O LORD, our Lord! how wondrously," (quoth she)

66

Thy name in this large world is spread abroad!

For not alone by men of dignity

Thy worship is performed and precious laud;
But by the mouths of children, gracious God!
Thy goodness is set forth; they when they lie
Upon the breast thy name do glorify.

II.

Wherefore in praise, the worthiest that I may,
Jesu! of thee, and the white Lily-flower
Which did thee bear, and is a Maid for aye,
To tell a story I will use my power;

Not that I may increase her honour's dower,
For she herself is honour, and the root

Of goodness, next her Son, our soul's best boot.

III.

O Mother Maid! O Maid and Mother free!
O bush unburnt! burning in Moses' sight!
That down didst ravish from the Deity,
Through humbleness, the spirit that did alight
Upon thy heart, whence, through that glory's might,
Conceived was the Father's sapience,

Help me to tell it in thy reverence!

IV.

Lady! thy goodness, thy magnificence,
Thy virtue, and thy great humility,
Surpass all science and all utterance;
For sometimes, Lady! ere men pray to thee
Thou goest before in thy benignity,
The light to us vouchsafing of thy prayer,

To be our guide unto thy Son so dear.