Billeder på siden
PDF
ePub

No. 89.]

London Magazine:

A JOURNAL OF ENTERTAINMENT AND INSTRUCTION
FOR GENERAL READING.

[blocks in formation]
[graphic][ocr errors][merged small][subsumed]

The above sketch represents a mode of tending cattle frequently to be met with in the more remote parts of ermany, where enclosures are not common, and the pasture-lands of the peasantry are not separated from each ther and from the corn-fields by regular fences. In the sketch a cow and goat are tied together by a long rope stened around the horns of each, which a girl holds in the middle, and so prevents either from straying.

VOL. IV.

A VISIT TO THE NEW HOUSES OF

PARLIAMENT.

ONE bright autumnal evening in 1834, towards the fashionable dinner-hour, the indwellers of the metropolis were alarmed by the breaking out of a "conflagration" | upon the northern bank of the river, at a spot perhaps dearer in association than any other to every reader of England's history. The wind blew briskly from the south-west; the flames shot up with fearful rapidity; and the crowds of people who clustered upon the bridges and banks soon ascertained the scene of the "great fire" to be the Houses of Parliament at Westminster. The wind blew briskly from the south-west, but became more southerly as the night advanced; the moon was near the full, and shone with radiance; but occasionally vast masses of cumulus floated high and bright across the skies, and, as the fitful glare of the flames increased, were illumined in a remarkably impressive manner, which gave interest to the busy scene that was preparing

below."

[ocr errors]

and plaster, which the old buildings presented, observed "in such an extensive assemblage of combustible mate rials, should a fire happen, what would become of the Painted Chamber, the House of Commons, and We minster Hall? Where would the progress of the fr be arrested?"

The cause of the fire was, in a few days, traced to the burning of about two cart loads of wooden tallies, in th furnaces or stoves connected with the flues, whi passed beneath the flooring of the House of Lords; the iron pipes and flues by this means became red-hot m set fire to the floor, as combustible as touch-wood. Th tallies, we should explain, were notched wooden sticks, used until October, 1826, in keeping the public ascun of the Treasury; and in destroying the relies of A ancient mode of reckoning, nearly the entire pil buildings and offices was destroyed: a result whi with propriety be added to the long list of “great cre from little causes."*

We have alluded incidentally to the historical ins of the great scene of devastation-" the Palace at minster," the residence of our monarchs from E

the Confessor to Elizabeth, who was its last sovere inhabitant. After her death the court resided at W The circumstances of the discovery of the fire we will hall and St. James's; and, as the ancient building relate as briefly as possible. At about 6 o'clock, the Westminster Palace fell into decay, they were reme wife of one of the door keepers, seeing a strongly glitter-or, restored, and converted to other uses. Not ing light under one of the doors, immediately ran to the however, had the Palace been in the long lapse deputy house-keeper, exclaiming, "Oh, good God, the centuries and a half a royal residence, but it was House of Lords is on fire!" The persons employed seat of administrative justice, and the domestic about the building were quickly drawn together by the ment of the kingdom, for nearly eight centunes alarm; and a chimney was observed to be "very much from the Anglo-Saxon period to the date of the on fire." The wind increased in strength; the flames fire, in 1834. Hence, the system of a great plan shot through the numerous wood-panelled passages, palace buildings included, besides the "proper : lobbies, staircases, &c., which formed the communica- and home" of the Sovereign, the house of tion between the two houses and their offices; and, "in wherein many a ruler knelt to the service of the a few hours," says one of the accounts, notwithstand High; and around were clustered the courts of ing all the aid which could be furnished by fire engines in accordance with the spirit of a feudal age. T and fire-men, by working parties of soldiers and labour-other spot of the country would the influence of ers, and by the assistance of the police, as well as from the voluntary services of many other persons, including both noblemen and gentlemen (Members of Parliament), the Houses of Lords and Commons and the Painted Chamber were consumed to the bare walls, whilst the more fragile buildings immediately surrounding them were altogether destroyed."

cal association appear to have been so powerf
centrated as upon the site of the Westminster la
There, amid the smoking ruins, on the morninga
fire, stood the massive walls of "the Painted Ca
believed to have been the bed-room of Edward the
fessor, and the scene of his last hours. Th
happily saved from the flames, was the Hall, di
state room of the palace, founded by Will
though he was discontented therewith-i
lytle. Among the salvage, likewise, was the old
of Requests, where, in the feudal times, sat the o
authorized to receive petitions of the subjects

Throughout the night the scene of the fire presented a spectacle strikingly picturesque and impressive. The flames threw a lurid glare upon the fair bosom of the Thames, as well as upon the thousands of spectators crowded in boats and barges and upon the bridges and banks; at the same time that the atmosphere was ljustice, or favour from the king. This building up for many miles around the metropolis. Landward, the progress of the fire exhibited a tableau vivant of not inferior interest. The Old Palace Yard, and, in the adjacent avenues, the soldiery, in their glittering uniforms, the shouts of the firemen and the clangour of the work ing engines; the rush and roar of the reckless mob, and their yelling, amounting almost to savagery, alike as the flames were checked or fed in their intensity, are even

now

"Rife, and perfect in our listening ear."

In justice we should observe that the interest attached to the greater portion of the buildings in course of destruction was but understood by comparatively few of the congregated thousands; but every one present must have felt concerned for the fate of the magnificent hall, around which the flames raged fearfully during a considerable part of the night. Happily, the scene of the coronation feasts of our sovereigns for centuries past was preserved unscathed, but not until three o'clock on the following morning was the fire sufficiently subdued to remove apprehensions of further danger.

Next day, the blackened ruins presented a strange reality of a prophetic intimation as to the actual consequence in case of fire, put by Sir John Soane, in the year 1828; who, contemplating the labyrinth of lath

been long used as the House of Peers; whilst the
mons sat within the walls of a splendid chapel,
to have been founded by King Stephen, and
questionably begun to be rebuilt by Edward I.
completed by Edward III. Hence, it belonged
best age of our architecture: the legislators st -
timber-structure built within the chapel walls, a
flames of 1834, by destroying the unsig
fabric, (less than half a century old.) laid la
elegant tracery of the windows, the gorgeous --
gilding, and sculpture of the walls, and the ot
portions of the crypt; the richly dight skeleten
ing amidst the general wreck, a picturesque "
an impressive memorial of the piety of our s
in an age when men vied in the practice of beaut...
to glorify their Maker.

With all this prestige in its favour, it is not sur

The Exchequer at Westminster, the most ancient to department of the state, with all its complicated tallies and checks, was not entirely abolished until they when a new office for the purpose was opened at the Bank land. The tally was a stick about twenty-two inches in its edge were cut notches to denote the reckeningnin ter-tally was stripped off, cutting the date line of the trans" so that identity consisted not only in the wood fitting, bok halved date and notches corresponding, like a halved bank-s

1

Having thus glanced at the leading features of the plan, we shall proceed to describe, from our own careful inspection, the portion of the design already completed the artistic nucleus of the superb and stupendous whole.

THE NEW HOUSE OF LORDS.

tectural features.
Externally, the House presents no enriched archi-
exterior shows a low and boldly embattled portion,
As seen from the House Court, the
resting upon an arcade of flattened arches: this, on
each side, serving as the corridor of the House. Above
this, the six finely proportioned and traceried windows
of the House are seen; and, between each, a plain,
massive buttress; the whole crowned with lofty battle-

O find the rebuilding of the Houses of the Legislature pon the original site, a resolution of almost self-sugestion. The objectors were but few: its lowness was rged as a plea for change; but the "divinity" which edged the Confessor's chamber, the chapel, and the reat hall, proved of paramount influence. Temporary ccommodation for the sitting of "the Houses," was rovided among the ruins of the fire; but many months elapsed before the plan for rebuilding was matured. This being decided on, ninety-seven sets of esigns were furnished in four months; and Mr. Barry was, at length, selected as the successful competing rchitect, in the spring of 1836. The several designs ere publicly exhibited; and well do we remember the laborate beauty and richness of Mr. Barry's drawings: ndeed the vast superiority of his design, bating foreThe public have been admitted by thousands to inone conclusions, was evident to the most unprofes-spect these finished portions, which consist of the House ional eye. It was, in some respects, different from itself, the lobby to the same, the Victoria Hall, and the he structure as yet completed; but the variations corridors on each side of these apartments. These need not here be pointed out, further than by stating corridors are handsomely panelled and ceiled with oak; hat the general character of the design was more cas- the windows are square-headed, divided by mullions, ellated than the portion built. With the year 1839 and traceried; the glass is richly diapered; and in was commenced the excavation for the river wall; labels, running diagonally, the motto " Dieu et mon and the building of the wall in March. In 1840, the droit," is many times repeated. At night, these Speaker's House and Parliamentary Offices were be- corridors are lighted by gas in branches, and globe gun; but, it was not until the middle of 1841, that lights pendent from the ceiling. They have doors any important progress had been made in the super- opening into the House, with plate-glass panels. The chief entrance to the House is by

structure.

ments.

THE PEERS' LOBBY.

The New Houses may be described, in plan, as a vast assemblage of buildings, with the intervening courts, covering an area of nine statute acres, with a frontage to the Thames of nearly one thousand feet. In the centre of the plan is a large octagonal hall, communieating, by a corridor and lobby, northward with the House of Commons, and southward with the House of Lords. In a line with the latter is the Victoria Hall and Gallery, for the royal entrance by the Victoria Tower, at the south-west angle of the plan. Flanking the "Houses" and offices are eleven large open courts; St. Stephen's Hall, and the crypt of old St. Stephen's, to be used as a chapel for Divine worship; and old Westminster Hall will form a grand vestibule of entrance to the entire pile. It will comprise fourteen halls, galleries, vestibules, and other apartments, of great capacity and noble proportion; and eight official residences, each a first-rate mansion, that for the Speaker being as large as the Reform Club House. The space between the principal apartments is occupied by open courts, and corridors and lobbies, besides libraries, waiting-rooms, &c. In the river front is a central conference hall, with committee-rooms and libraries for the Lords and Commoners, Speaker and Black Rod Usher's apartments, &c.; the whole plan numbering between five and six hundred distinct rooms. The principal external features will be the Victoria Tower already named, now built to the height of ninety feet, and to be raised to four hundred feet; the Clock Tower, at the Westminster Bridge end; and the tower of the octagon or Central Hall; besides the towers in the river front. The exterior is of hard magnesian limestone, from Bolsover, in Nottinghamshire; and the interior of Caen stone. The main beams and joists are of iron throughout, and the several buildings are fire-proof. The style of the architecture is florid Gothic: we have not, however, space to detail its picturesque enrichments its canopied niches with statuettes of crowned sovereigns, mitred churchmen, and sainted women; its thirty-five shields of arms of the sovereigns of England; its multi-throughout the noble apartment. tudinous badges, religious and loyal inscriptions; its richly gilt wind vanes, and erect-tiles, noble windows, massive arches, and the numberless embellishments with which the whole pile may be said to bristle. The style employed may be best described in the architect's own words:"It has been his aim to avoid the ecclesiastical, collegiate, castellated, and domestic styles, and to select that which he considers better suited to the peculiar appropriation of the building."

being divided into a wide central, and two smaller This is a large and lofty square apartment, each side compartments, by buttresses, panelled and enriched, and crowned with demi-angels, bearing shields, with the Garter and V. R.; and from these angels spring the spandrils which support the roof. In the centre of each side is a deeply recessed doorway, the spandrils of which are enriched with the Tudor rose, portcullis, &c., in quatre-foils. The other portion of each side is divided into arched compartments, within which are emblazoned the arms of England, Scotland, and Ireland, which are repeated in the windows flanking the east and west doorways. The southern dcor, being the entrance to the House, is more magnificently dight than the others; the arch is deeply moulded, and enriched with roses and leaves in colours, and, immediately over the inner doorway, filled with superb gates, brass gilt, are the royal arms, of colossal proportions, in rich colours. The heraldic elaboration of the brass gates is indescribably beautiful; altogether, they are many years in this country. At each angle of the the finest specimen of working in metal executed for lobby floor, is a lofty brass standard for gas-lights, of admirable design. The flooring is of encaustic tiles of heraldic design, and in the centre is a large Tudor rose and star of brass, and Derbyshire marbles. The ceiling is divided into compartments by deeply ribbed and moulded beams, and pendants, richly carved and gilt; and the spaces between these beams are smaller squares, on which are painted and gilt roses, thistles, and shamrocks, with rich foliated ornaments of red and green; and in the centre of the whole is a large red and white rose, surmounted by a radiating nimbus, on a deep blue ground. The entire ceiling is peculiarly chaste and effective, and rich without garishness. The mottoes, "Dieu et mon droit," and "Domine salvam fac Reginam," are variously repeated

The principal entrance to

THE HOUSE

is by the brass gates. It is a right regal chamber, in proportion, arrangement, and decoration; ninety feet in length, forty-five in breadth, and of the same height. In plan the House is divided into three parts, the northern and southern being considerably smaller than the centre, or body, of the House, wherein are the

[ocr errors]

Indeed, I have thought Mr. Fairlegh much altered since I had the pleasure of meeting him before;" then, glancing at my face with a look of unfeigned interest. which sent the blood bounding rapidly through my veins, she continued:-"You have not been ill, I hope I was hastening to reply in the negative, and to enlighten her as to the real cause of my pale looks, when Coleman interrupted me by exclaiming

"Ah! poor fellow, it is a melancholy affair. In those pale cheeks, that wasted, though still graceful form, and the weak, languid, and unhappy, but deeply interesting tout ensemble, you perceive the sad results of-am la liberty to mention it-of an unfortunate attachment."

woolsack, clerks' tables, &c.; and on either side the | earnest. Miss Saville, who was completely taken in seats for the peers, in rows. At the southern end is the answered innocently, royal throne; and at the northern the bar. On each side of the chamber are six large and lofty windows, to be filled with stained glass, representing the kings and queens of England. At each end are three archways, corresponding with the windows; on the surface of the wall within these arches frescoes will be painted; the arch over the throne being already filled by Mr. Dyce's fresco of "the Baptism of St. Ethelbert." The archways at the northern end are very deeply recessed, thus affording space for the strangers' gallery; below which is the reporters' gallery. Between the windows and arches are eighteen canopied niches, in which will be placed statues of the eighteen barons who wrested Magna Charta from King John. The demi-angels, pillars, pedestals, canopies, quatre foils in the spandrils, &c., are all gilded, and the interiors of the niches are elegantly diapered. Around the House is a narrow gallery, with an elegant brass-gilt enclosure. Below the windows the walls are lined with oak panelling, elaborately wrought: its details include V. R., with an oak wreath and cord intertwining; ogee arches, crockets, and finials; portrait-busts of all the kings of England; "God save the Queen," in Tudor characters; and a pierced brattishing of trefoils, beautifully executed. The covered portion, immediately beneath the gallery, is richly emblazoned with the arms of the various Lord Chancellors of England.

The ceiling is flat, and is divided into eighteen large compartments by bold tie-beams, on each of which is sculptured, and twice repeated, "Dieu et mon droit;" and these beams being pierced aid the ventilation. The eighteen compartments are again divided by smaller beams into four, having in their centres lozenge-formed compartments. These sub-divisions are filled with devices and symbols, indicating the royal monogram, and the monograms of the Prince of Wales and Prince Albert; the cognizances of the white hart, the lion, the crown in a bush, the falcon, the dragon, and the greyhound, the lion passant of England, the lion rampant of Scotland, and the harp of Ireland, besides sceptres, crowns, scales of justice, mitres and crosiers, blunted swords of mercy, the Prince of Wales's plume, and floriated emblems too numerous for us to particularise; they are elaborately executed in colours and gilding; so minute in detail that an opera-glass is requisite to appreciate all their beauties.

The Bar is of oak, intricately carved, and crowned with bold figures of the lion and unicorn holding shields; and some of the panels have an elaborate treillage of vine, oak, rose, and thistle; and at the angles are badges of the royal houses of England.

The floor is carpeted with bright blue, spotted with roses of gold colour; the woolsack is crimson; and the clerks' table is of oak, exquisitely carved. Around the House are noble brass branches, with coronal tops, for gas-lights; and at each end of the peers' seats is a superb and lofty candelabrum, twelve and a half feet high, for wax-lights-a beautiful specimen of metal work. (To be continued.)

FRANK FAIRLEGH;

OR, OLD COMPANIONS IN NEW SCENES.1

CHAP. V.

WOMAN'S A RIDDLE.

DON'T you consider Fairlegh to be looking very thin and pale, Miss Saville?" inquired Coleman, when we joined the ladies after dinner, speaking with an air of such genuine solicitude, that any one not intimately acquainted with him would have imagined him in

(1) Continued from p. 148.

"Upon my word, Freddy, you are too bad," exclaime! I, half angrily, though I could scarcely refrain from laughing, for the pathetic expression of his countenan was perfectly irresistible. Miss Saville, I can assur you-let me beg of you to believe, that there is not a word of truth in what he has stated."

"Wait a moment, you're so dreadfully fast, my des fellow! You won't allow a man time to finish what be is saying," remonstrated my tormentor, "attachment te his studies, I was going to add, only you interrupted me."

"I see I shall have to chastise you before you learn t behave yourself properly," replied I, shaking my fe him playfully; "remember, you taught me how to t the gloves at Dr. Mildman's, and I have not quite fur gotten the science even yet."

"Hit a man your own size, you great big monster you," rejoined Coleman, affecting extreme alarm; "Ms Saville, I look to you to protect me from his tyranny ladies always take the part of the weak and oppressed."

But they do not interfere to shield evil-doers in the punishment due to their misdemeanours," repli Miss Saville, archly.

"There now," grumbled Freddy, "that's always th way; every one turns against me; I'm a victim, th I have not formed an unfortunate attachment forthing or any body."

"I should like to see you thoroughly in love for in your life, Freddy,” said I; "it would be as good as a comedy."

"Thank ye," was the rejoinder, "you'd be a pleasan sort of fellow to make a confidant of, I dare say-b a man now, who calls himself one's friend, and thinki would be as good as a comedy' to witness the d of our noblest affections, and would have all the tenderest emotions of our nature laid bare, for him w poke fun at the barbarian!"

"I did not understand Mr. Fairlegh's remark to arr to affaires du cœur in general, but simply to the effec likely to be produced in your case, by such an atta observed Miss Saville, with a quiet smile.

[ocr errors]

A very proper distinction," returned I: “I see tha I cannot do better than leave my defence in hands.”

[ocr errors]

It is quite clear that you have both entered inte plot against me," rejoined Freddy; "well, never mind mea virtute me involvo: I wrap myself in a proud e sciousness of my own immeasurable superiority, despise your attacks."

"I have read, that to begin by despising your enemy is one of the surest methods of losing the battle, plied Miss Saville.

"Oh! if you are going to quote history against me. I yield at once-there is nothing alarms me so much as the sight of a blue-stocking," answered Freddy.

Miss Saville proceeded to defend herself with much vivacity against this charge, and they continued to c verse in the same light strain for some time longer Coleman, as usual, being exceedingly droll and amusing and the young lady displaying a decided talent delicate and playful badinage. In order to enter es amore into this style of conversation, we must either be

n the enjoyment of high health and spirits, when our ight-heartedness finds a natural vent in gay raillery and parkling repartee, or we must be suffering sufficient positive unhappiness to make us feel that a strong effort is necessary to screen our sorrows from the careess gaze of those around us. Now, though Coleman had not been far wrong in describing me as "weak, anguid, and unhappy," mine was not a positive, but negative unhappiness, a gentle sadness, which was ather agreeable than otherwise, and towards which I vas by no means disposed to use the slightest violence. was in the mood to have shed tears with the loveick Ophelia, or to moralize with the melancholy Jaques, out should have considered Mercutio a man of no feeling, and the clown "" a 'very poor fool" indeed. In this frame of mind, the conversation appeared to me to have assumed such an essentially frivolous turn, that I soon eased to take any share in it, and, turning over the eaves of a book of prints as an excuse for my silence, endeavoured to abstract my thoughts altogether from the scene around me, and employ them on some subect less dissonant to my present tone of feeling. As is usually the result in such cases, the attempt proved a lead failure, and I soon found myself speculating on the ightness and frivolity of women in general, and of Clara Saville in particular.

"How thoroughly absurd and misplaced," thought I, s her silvery laugh rang harshly on my distempered ear, 'were all my conjectures that she was unhappy, and that, n the trustful and earnest expression of those deep blue yes, I could read the evidence of a secret grief, and a acit appeal for sympathy to those whom her instinet aught her were worthy of her trust and confidence! Ah well, I was young and foolish then (it was not quite a year and a half ago), and imagination found an asy dupe in me; one learns to see things in their true ight as one grows older, but it is sad how the doing so cbs life of all its brightest illusions."

It did not occur to me at that moment, that there was I slight injustice in accusing Truth of petty larceny in egard to a bright illusion in the present instance, as he fact (if fact it were) of proving that Miss Saville was ot unhappy, could scarcely be reckoned among that class of offences.

Come, Freddy," exclaimed Mrs. Coleman, suddenly raking up to a sense of duty, out of a dangerous little ap in which she had been indulging, and which ocasioned me great uneasiness, by reason of the opporunity it afforded her for the display of an alarming uicidal propensity which threatened to leave Mr. Coleman à disconsolate widower, and Freddy mother

ess.

As a warning to all somnolent old ladies, it may not be amiss to enter a little more fully into detail. The exhibition commenced by her seating herself bolt upright in her chair, with her eyes so very particularly open, that it seemed as if, in her case, Macbeth or some other wonder-worker had effectually "murdered sleep." By slow degrees, however, their lids began to close; she grew less and less "wide awake," and, ere long, was fast as a church; her next move was to nod complacently to the company in general, as if to demand their attention. She then oscillated gently to and fro for a few seconds to get up the steam, and concluded the performance by suddenly flinging her head back, with an insane jerk, over the rail of the chair, at the imminent risk of breaking her neck, uttering a loud snort of triumph as she did so.

Trusting the reader will pardon, and the humane Society award me a medal for this long digression, I resume the thread of my narrative.

"Freddy, my dear, can't you sing that droll Italian Song your cousin Lucy taught you? I'm sure poor Miss Saville must feel quite dull and melancholy." "Would she did!" murmured I to myself. "Who is to play it for me?" asked Coleman. "Well, my love, I'll do my best," replied his mother;

[ocr errors]

"and, if I should make a few mistakes, it will only sound all the funnier, you know."

This being quite unanswerable, the piano was opened, and, after Mrs. Coleman's spectacles had been hunted for in all probable places, and discovered at last in the coal-scuttle, a phenomenon which that good lady accounted for on the score of "John's having flurried her so when he brought in tea;" and when, moreover, she had been with difficulty prevailed on to allow the music-book to remain the right way upwards, the song was commenced.

As Freddy had a good tenor voice, and sang the Italian buffa song with much humour, the performance proved highly successful, although Mrs. Coleman was as good as her word in introducing some original and decidedly "funny" chords into the accompaniment, which would have greatly discomposed the composer, if he had by any chance overheard them.

"I did not know that you were such an accomplished performer, Freddy," observed I; "you are quite an universal genius."

[ocr errors]

"Oh, the song was excellent!" said Miss Saville, "and Mr. Coleman sang it with so much spirit." 'Really," returned Freddy, with a low bow, "you do me proud, as brother Jonathan says; I am actuallythat is, positively

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

'My dear Freddy," interrupted Mrs. Coleman, "I wish you would go and fetch Lucy's music; I'm sure Miss Saville can sing some of her songs; it's-let me see-yes, it's either down stairs in the study, or in the boudoir, or in the little room at the top of the house, or, if it isn't, you had better ask Richards about it."

| "Perhaps the shortest way will be to consult Richards at once," replied Coleman, as he turned to leave the

room.

"I presume you prefer buffa songs to music of a more pathetic character?" inquired I, addressing Miss Saville.

"You judge from my having praised the one we have just heard, I suppose."

"Yes, and from the lively style of your conversation; I have been envying your high spirits all the evening."

"Indeed!" was the reply; "and why should you envy them?"

"Are they not an indication of happiness, and is not that an enviable possession ?" returned I.

"Yes, indeed!" she replied, in a low voice, but with such passionate earnestness as quite to startle me. "Is laughing, then, such an infallible indication of happi

ness?" she continued.

"One usually supposes so," replied I.

To this she made no answer, unless a sigh can be called one, and, turning away, began looking over the pages of a music-book.

"Is there nothing you can recollect to sing, my dear?" asked Mrs. Coleman.

She paused for a moment as if in thought, ere she replied,

"There is an old air, which I think I could remember; but I do not know whether you will like it. The words," she added, glancing towards me, "refer to the subject on which we have just been speaking." She then seated herself at the instrument, and after striking a few simple chords, Sang, in a sweet, rich voice, the following stanzas:—

I.

Behold how brightly seeming

All nature shows! In golden sun-light gleaming, Blushes the rose. How very happy things must be That are so bright and fair to see! Ah, no! in that sweet flower, A worm there lies; And lo! within the hour, It fades-it dies.

« ForrigeFortsæt »