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LADY CLARA VERE DE VERE.
Lady Clara Vere de Vere,
Some meeker pupil you must find ;
I could not stoop to such a mind.
And my disdain is my reply ;
Is not more cold to you than I.
You put strange memories in my head;
Since I beheld young Laurence dead.
A great enchantress you may be ;
Which you had hardly cared to see.
When thus he met his mother's view,
She spake some certain truths of you.
That scarce is fit for you to hear ;
Which stamps the caste of Vere de Vere
There stands a spectre in your hall :
You changed a wholesome heart to gall.
To make him trust his modest worth ;
And slew him with your noble birth.
blue heavens above us bent,
Smile at the claims of long descent.
'Tis only noble to be good ;
And simple faith than Norman blood.
I know you, Clara Vere de Vere :
You pine among your halls and towers;
Is wearied of the rolling hours.
But sickening of a vague disease,
You needs must play such pranks as these.
If time be heavy on your hands,
your lands? Oh! teach the orphan boy to read,
Or teach the orphan girl to sew, Pray heaven for a human heart, And let the foolish yeoman go.
BEFORE proud Rome's imperial throne,
In mind's unconquer'd mood,
The dauntless captive stood.
With slow and stately tread,
That day in triumph led ;
On temple, arch, and tower,
Of Rome's victorious power ;
And now he stood, with brow serene,
Where slaves might prostrate fall,
In Cæsar's palace hall ;
Nor could Rome's haughty lord withstand
The claim that look preferr’d,
The suppliant should be heard :
Deep stillness fell on all the crowd,
From Claudius on his throne
At his imperial tone ;
“Think not, thou eagle Lord of Rome,
And master of the world,
In triumph now is furld,
“I might, perchance, could I have deign'd
To hold a vassal's throne,
A king-in name alone;
“Then through Rome's crowded streets this day
I might have rode with thee;
But fetterless and free :
THE ONE-LEGGED GOOSE.
“ But canst thou marvel that, free born,
With heart and hope unquell’d,
By thy permission held ?
Till wrested by a conqueror's might?
By us unwish’d, unreft,
To Britain might have left :
Had been thy triumph now?
Thou owest thy laureli'd brow :
And more inglorious bondage mine.
Be life or death my lot,
To me it matters not;
A murmur of applause;
Maintain'd their holy cause :
THE ONE-LEGGED GOOSE.
A WEALTHY gentleman of Hertfordshire,
Not troubled with an overplus of brains, Like many a worthy country squire,
Whose craniums give them very little pains,
THE ONE-LEGGED GOOSE,
Liv'd quietly upon his own estate :
or militates against it, is a question That I would wish to have no hand in, But leave it to your cool digestion.
He ne'er perplexed his pate
With the af irs state,
(As should each penitential sinner), Took, during service-time, his usual snore, And gave his sixpence at the door,
And then walk'd comfortably home to dinner. As there are many, I dare say,
Who into such affairs have never look’d, I think I'd better mention, by the way,
That dinners, ere they're eaten, should be cook'd! At least our squire's were so before he took 'em, And consequently he'd a cook to cook 'em. Now, as I shall have work enough For this most gracious queen of kitchen-stuff, It
may not be amiss to tell you, that (Of lusty beauty quite a masterpiece)
This modern maid of Fat
The bird was done, and she for master wishing,