And, what is far worse, By no means is heavy, but quite the reverse,— That lady's papa is stingy and close; With a penchant for nothing but bank-notes or gold. At ladies, without ever dreaming or thinking His means were all gone, and his credit fast sinking; A mode by which Tories in those days were pepper'd, As you'll find if you read Mr. Ainsworth's "Jack Sheppard:" All these things induced him to aid the advances (Not being the person to throw away chances) Of a wealthy old lord to his fair daughter Frances, Which he thought no bad spec. to recruit his finances. Slowly and sadly the lovers were walking, On their hardships, and some other odd matters talking; That rather than wed An old noodle just ready to take to his bed, Were it only to spite Her father for taking such things in his head. Would die before he Allowed any man, Baron, Viscount, or Earl, He said," At Preston's bloody fray, And just as two troopers were ready to twist, Acknowledged his kindness, and swore, too, that 'dem it' he That, last night, which must still more remarkable seem, And had bid him, without any nonsense or joke, And a rain-drop moistened that lady's eye The lady she sighed, perchance for a coach, At this moment, when what to do neither could tell, a In a very tight jacket, with very short tails, One kiss ere he goes - The page most discreetly is blowing his nose,- He has mounted his steed, A noble beast of bone and breed, "Warranted free from vice and from whim." When only half new, Ralph had bought some time back from a parrot-nosed Jew, How sharp they must look when they deal with old clothesmen. Little reck'd Ralph of the wind and the rain, On his inmost heart was preying that pain Which man may know once, but can ne'er know again; Of deepest woe, To feel he was loved, and was loved in vain. Now fiercer grew the tempest's force, And the whirlwind eddied round rider and horse, As onward they urged their headlong course. O'er bank, brook, and briar, O'er streamlet and brake, A country so awkward to go such a pace on Might have pozed Captain Beecher, Dan Seffert, or Mason. At once a flash, livid and clear, Shows a moss-grown ruin mouldering near; As slowly climbs that ancient mound, A thousand storms have o'er it broke, It is, it is the Abbot's oak, It is the trysting-tree. An hour hath passed, an hour hath flown, He "confounds," with much energy" Abbots and oaks, To hold him and his steed, As it formerly served the old monks for a tool-house. Another hour was past and gone, With cold, thought of taking A nap, and was just between sleeping and waking, To raise himself tries, But a weight seems to press on his arms, chest, and thighs, Then conceive his amazement, alarm, and surprise, In its ancient pride, He sees an old monastery slowly arise; Chapel and hall, Buttress and wall, Ivied spire, and turret tall, Grow on his vision one and all. At first they begin To fall into outline, and slowly fill in; At length in their proper proportions they fix, From the postern-gate of that Abbey grey A band of monks pursue their way Till they come to the Abbot's oak. Ralph sees an eye he before has known,— The identical phiz Of his friend, or one precisely like his! Of an Abbey bell, On the ear of the wondering listener fell; His limbs unbound, His strength, so strangely lost, is found! Howling fled the wild Nightmare, Nothing save the mouldering pile, Which looked, in the deepening shade half hid, And the moon on high Beamed steadily forth from the deep-blue sky. Still in Ralph's ear the words were ringing He felt that the tide at last was come, now or Of his trusty blade He very soon made An apology-poor one I grant-for a spade, He turned up the soil, While he thought- On that adage which taught "Perseverance, and patience, and plenty of oil;" Till, wearied grown, Muscle and bone, His sword broke short on a broad flag stone. In Redgrave church the bells are ringing; In Redgrave church blush bridesmaids seven, One had turned faint, or they would have blushed even; In face of man, in face of Heaven. In her sunshine of youth, in her beauty's pride In homely vest, Coat, waistcoat, and breeches, are all of the best; Is burly and big, And a ring with a sparkling diamond his hand is on, Or can even suppose, How Ralph of Redgrave got such fine clothes; DALTON. REMARKABLE SUICIDES. BY THE AUTHOR OF "CURIOSITIES OF MEDICAL EXPERIENCE." "CHARITY Covereth a multitude of sins," and generally casts a mantle of insanity on the corpse of the self-murderer; but it is not altogether fair to cast a stigma on the living to exonerate the dead. If the commission of suicide be an act of lunacy, the surviving family of the defunct must be considered as predisposed to insanity; to secure to an inanimate body the rites of a Christian sepulture, and to shield its memory from the charge of cowardice, and a defiance of Divine and human laws, its innocent and already injured offspring and relations are to be exposed to the sad report of being members of a family subject to mental hallucinations! |