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Which we beneath a grateful shade
Should take, on peaceful billows laid!
How light we move, how softly! ah,
Were life but as the gondola!

In one unbroken passage borne
To closing night from opening morn,
We lift at whiles slow eyes to mark
Some palace front, some passing bark,
Through windows catch the varying shore,
And hear the soft turns of the oar.
How light we move, how softly! ah,
Were life but as the gondola!

How light we go, how softly skim,
And all in moonlight seem to swim;
The South side rises o'er our bark,
A wall impenetrably dark;

The North is seen profusely bright;
The water, is it shade or light?
Say, gentle moon, which conquers now,
The flood those massy hulls, or thou?
How light we go, how softly! ah,
Were life but as a gondola!

How light we go, how softly skim,
And all in moonlight seem to swim!
Reclining, that white dome I mark
Against bright clouds projected dark,
And catch, by brilliant lamps displayed,
The Doge's columns, and arcade:
Over smooth waters mildly come
The distant laughter and the hum.
On to the landing, onward-nay,
Sweet dream, a little longer stay.
On to the landing-here-and ah,
Life is not as the gondola.

(By permission of Messrs. Macmillan.)

193

THE FARMER'S WIFE AND THE GASCON.

HORACE SMITH.

AT Neufchatel, in France, where they prepare
Cheeses that set us longing to eat mites,

There dwelt a farmer's wife, famed for her rare
Skill in these small quadrangular delights.

Where they were made, they sold for the immerse
Price of three sous a-piece;

But as salt water made their charms increase,
In England the fixed rate was eighteen-pence.
This damsel had to help her in the farm,
To milk her cows and feed her hogs,
A Gascon peasant, with a sturdy arm
For digging or for carrying logs,
But in his noddle weak as any baby,
In fact a gaby,

And such a glutton, when you came to feed him,
That Wantly's Dragon, who "ate barns and churches,"
As if they were geese and turkeys,

(Vide the ballad) scarcely could exceed him.

One morn she had prepared a monstrous bowl

Of cream like nectar,

And would not go to church (good careful soul !)
Till she had left it safe with a protector:

So she gave strict injunctions to the Gascon
To watch it while his mistress was to mass gone.
Watch it he did he never took his eyes off,
But lick'd his upper, then his under lip,
And doubled up his fist to drive the flies off,
Begrudging them the smallest sip,

Which if they got,

Like my Lord Salisbury, he heaved a sigh,
And cried, "Oh happy, happy fly,

How I do envy you your lot!"

Each moment did his appetite grow stronger;
His bowels yearn'd;

At length he could not bear it any longer;

But on all sides his looks he turn'd,

And finding that the coast was clear, he quaff'd
The whole up at a draught.

Scudding from church, the farmer's wife
Flew to the dairy;

But stood aghast, and could not for her life
One sentence mutter,

Until she muster'd breath enough to utter
"Holy St. Mary !"

And shortly, with a face of scarlet,
The vixen (for she was a vixen) flew
Upon the varlet,

Asking the when, and where, and how, and who
Had gulp'd her cream, nor left an atom?
To which he gave-not separate replies,
But, with a look of excellent digestion,
One answer made to every question,
"The flies!"

"The flies, you rogue! the flies, you guttling dog!
Behold, your whiskers still are covered thickly;
Thief!-villain !-liar!-gormandizer!—hog!
I'll make you tell another story quickly!"

So out she bounc'd, and brought, with loud alarms,
Two stout gens-d'armes,

Who bore him to the judge-a little prig,
With angry bottle nose,

Like a red cabbage rose,

While lots of white ones flourish'd on his wig!
Looking at once both stern and wise,

He turn'd to the delinquent,

And 'gan to question him, and catechise,

As to which way the drink went ?

Still the same dogged answers rise,

"The flies, my Lord-the flies, the flies!"

"Pshaw!" quoth the judge, half peevish and half

pompous,

"Why, you're non compos!

You should have watch'd the bowl, as she desired, And kill'd the flies, you stupid clown."

"What is it lawful, then," the dolt inquired,
"To kill the flies in this here town?"
"The man's an ass!-a pretty question this!
Lawful? you booby! to be sure it is.

You've my authority, where'er you meet them,
To kill the rogues, and, if you like it, eat them.”
"Zooks!" cried the rustic, "I'm right glad to hear it.
Constable, catch that thief! may

go hang If yonder blue-bottle (I know his face)

Isn't the very leader of the gang

That stole the cream;-let me come near it."

This said, he started from his place,

And aiming one of his sledge-hammer blows
At a large fly upon the judge's nose,
The luckless blue-bottle he crush'd,
And gratified a double grudge;

For the same catapult completely smash'd
The bottle-nose belonging to the judge.

THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS.

H. W. LONGFELLOW.

It was the schooner Hesperus

That sailed the wintry sea;

And the skipper had taken his little daughter

To bear him company.

Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax,

Her cheeks like the dawn of day,

And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds, in the month of May.

That ope

The skipper he stood beside the helm,

His pipe was in his mouth,

And he watched how the veering flaw did blow,
The smoke now west, now south.

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"Last night the moon had a golden ring,
And to-night no moon we see!"

The skipper he blew a whiff from his pipe,
And a scornful laugh laughed he.

Colder and louder blew the wind,
A gale from the north-east;
The snow fell hissing in the brine,
And the billows frothed like yeast.

Down came the storm, and smote amain
The vessel in its strength;

She shuddered and paused like a frightened steed,
Then leaped her cable's length.

"Come hither-come hither, my little daughter, And do not tremble so;

For I can weather the roughest gale

That ever wind did blow."

He wrapped her in his seaman's coat,
Against the stinging blast;

He cut a rope from a broken spar,
And bound her to the mast.

Oh! father! I hear the church-bells ring—

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""Tis a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!" And he steered for the open sea.

"Oh! father! I hear the sound of guns; Oh ! say, what may it be?"

"Some ship in distress, that cannot live In such an angry sea!"

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