Through all the land of Xeres and banks of Guadalquiver

Rode forth bridegroom so brave as he, so brave and lovely never. Yon tall plume waving o'er his brow, of purple mixed with white, I guess 'twas wreathed by Zara, whom he will wed to-night. Rise up, rise up, Xarifa! lay the golden cushion down;

Rise up, come to the window, and gaze with all the town!"

The Zegri lady rose not, nor laid her cushion down,

Nor came she to the window to gaze with all the town;

But though her eyes dwelt on her knee, in vain her fingers strove, And though her needle pressed the silk, no flower Xarifa wove; One bonny rose-bud she had traced before the noise drew nigh That bonny bud a tear effaced, slow drooping from her eye — "No, no!" she sighs-"bid me not rise, nor lay my cushion down, To gaze upon Andalla with all the gazing town!"

I'll stay thee with my kisses.
To-night the roaring brine
Will rend thy golden tresses:
The ocean with the morrow light
Will be both blue and calm;
And the billow will embrace thee
with a kiss as soft as mine.
No western odors wander
On the black and moaning sea,
And when thou art dead, Leander,
My soul must follow thee!
Oh! go not yet, my love,
Thy voice is sweet and low;
The deep salt wave breaks in above
Those marble steps below.
The turret stairs are wet
That lead into the sea.
The pleasant stars have set:
Oh! go not, go not yet,
Or I will follow thee.

TENNYSON.

With sour-featured Whigs the Grassmarket was crammed, As if half the West had set tryst to be hanged: