And lo! the great bell farre and wide
Was heard in all the country-side
That Saturday at even-tide.

The swanherds where there sedges are
Move on in sunset's golden breath,
The shepherde lads I heard afarre,
And my sonne's wife, Elizabeth;
Till floating o'er the grassy sea
Came down that kyndly message free,
The "Brides of Mavis Enderby."

Then some looked uppe into the. sky,
And all along where Lindis flows
To where the goodly vessels lie,

And where the lordly steeple shows. They sayde: "And why should this thing be? 15 What danger lowers by land or sea? They ring the tune of Enderby!

"For evil news from Mablethorpe,
Of pyrate galleys warping' down;
For shippes ashore beyond the scorpe,*
They have not spared to wake the towne:
But while the west bin red to see,
And storms be none, and pyrates flee,
Why ring 'The Brides of Enderby?”

I looked without, and lo! my sonne

Came riding downe with might and main; He raised a shout as he drew on,

Till all the welkin' rang again, "Elizabeth! Elizabeth!"

(A sweeter woman ne'er drew breath Than my sonne's wife, Elizabeth.)

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"The olde sea-wall" (he cried) "is downe,
The rising tide comes on apace,
And boats adrift in yonder towne

Go sailing uppe the market-place."
He shook as one that looks on death:
"God save you, mother!" straight he saith,
"Where is my wife, Elizabeth?"

"Good sonne, where Lindis winds away,

With her two bairns" I marked her long;

And ere yon bells beganne to play
Afar off I heard her milking-song."
He looked across the grassy lea,
To right, to left, "Ho, Enderby!"
They rang "The Brides of Enderby!"

With that he cried and beat his breast;
For, lo! along the river's bed

A mighty eygre" reared his crest,
And uppe the Lindis raging sped.
It swept with thunderous noises loud;
Shaped like a curling snow-white cloud,
Or like a demon in a shroud.

And rearing Lindis, backward pressed,
Shook all her trembling bankes amaine;

Then madly at the eygre's breast

Flung uppe her weltering walls again,

Then bankes came downe with ruin and rout-
Then beaten foam flew round about-
Then all the mighty floods were out.

So farre, so fast the eygre drave,

The heart had hardly time to beat,

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Before a shallow, seething wave
Sobbed in the grasses at oure feet;
The feet had hardly time to flee
Before it brake against the knee,
And all the world was in the sea.

Upon the roofe we sate that night,
The noise of bells went sweeping by,
I marked the lofty beacon light

Stream from the church-tower, red and nighA lurid mark, and dread to see;

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And awsom1 bells they were to mee,

That in the dark rang "Enderby."

They rang the sailor lads to guide

From roofe to roofe who fearless rowed;

And I-my sonne was at my side,

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And yet the ruddy beacon glowed;
And yet he moaned beneath his breath,
"Oh, come in life, or come in death!
O lost! my love, Elizabeth."

And didst thou visit him no more?

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Thou didst, thou didst, my daughter deare;

The waters laid thee at his doore,

Ere yet the early dawn was clear. Thy pretty bairns in fast embrace, The lifted sun shone on thy face, Downe drifted to thy dwelling-place.

That flow strewed wrecks about the grass,
That ebbe swept out the flocks to sea;
A fatal ebbe and flow, alas!

To manye more than myne and me:

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But each will mourn his own (she sayth).
And sweeter woman ne'er drew breath
Than my sonne's wife, Elizabeth.

From the meads where melick groweth,

Where the water winding down,

Onward floweth to the town.

I shall never see her more

Where the reeds and rushes quiver,
Shiver, quiver;

Stand beside the sobbing river,
Sobbing, throbbing, in its falling
To the sandy, lonesome shore;
I shall never hear her calling:
"Leave your meadow grasses mellow,
Mellow, mellow;

Quit your cowslips, cowslips yellow;
Come uppe, Whitefoot, come uppe, Lightfoot;
Quit your pipes of parsley hollow,
Hollow, hollow;

Come uppe, Lightfoot, rise and follow;
Lightfoot, Whitefoot,

From your clovers lift the head;
Come up, Jetty, follow, follow,

Jetty, to the milking-shed."

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WHEN I was at Grand Cairo, I picked up several Oriental Manuscripts, which I have still by me. Among others I met with one entitled, The Visions of Mirzah, which I have read over with great Pleasure. I intend to give it to the Publick when I have no other Enter- 5 tainment for them; and shall begin with the first Vision, which I have translated Word for Word as follows:

"On the fifth Day of the Moon, which according to the Custom of my Forefathers I always keep holy, after having washed my self, and offered up my Morning Devotions, I ascended the high Hills of Bag-10 dat, in order to pass the rest of the Day in Meditation and Prayer. As I was here airing my self on the Tops of the Mountains, I fell into a profound Contemplation on the Vanity of human Life; and passing from one Thought to another, Surely, said I, Man is but a Shadow and Life a Dream. Whilst I was thus musing, I cast my Eyes towards the 15 Summit of a Rock that was not far from me, where I discovered one in the Habit of a Shepherd, with a little Musical Instrument in his Hand. As I looked upon him he applied it to his Lips, and began to play upon it. The Sound of it was exceeding sweet, and wrought into a Variety of Tunes that were inexpressibly melodious, and alto-20 gether different from any thing I had ever heard: They put me in mind of those heavenly Airs that are played to the departed Souls of good Men upon their first Arrival in Paradise, to wear out the Impressions of the last Agonies, and qualify them for the Pleasures of that happy Place. My Heart melted away in secret Raptures.

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