I am immortal too: my vow is heard:
Hark! on the left

I claim my kiss.

.. Nay, turn not from me now!

HAMADRYAD.

Do men take first, then claim? Do thus the seasons run their course with them?

Her lips were seal'd, her head sank on his breast: 'Tis said that laughs were heard within the wood : But who should hear them? and whose laugh? and why? Savoury was the smell, and long past noon, Thallinos in thy house for marjoram, Basil and mint, and thyme and rosemary, Were sprinkled on the kid's well roasted length, Awaiting Rhaicos. Home he came at last, Not hungry but pretending hunger keen, With head and eyes just o'er the maple plate. "Thou seest but badly, coming from the sun, Boy Rhaicos!" said the father. "That oak's bark Must have been tough, with little sap between : It ought to run; but it and I are old.” Rhaicos, although each morsel of the bread Increased by chewing, and the meat grew cold And tasteless to his palate, took a draught Of gold-bright wine, which, thirsty as he was, He thought not of until his father fill'd The cup, averring water was amiss, But wine had been at all times pour'd on kid It was religion.

He thus fortified

Said, not quite boldly, and not quite abash'd,
"Father! that oak is Zeus's own; that oak
Year after year will bring thee wealth from wax
And honey. There is one who fears the Gods
And the Gods love

What one)

.that one"

(He blush'd, nor said.

"Hath promised this, and may do more.

We have not many moons to wait until

The bees have done their best: if then there come
Nor wax nor honey, let the tree be hewn!"
"Zeus hath bestow'd on thee a prudent mind,"
Said the glad sire: "but look thou often there,
And gather all the honey thou canst find

In every crevice, over and above

What hath been promised! would they reckon that?"

Rhaicos went daily; and the Nymph as oft,
Invisible. To play at love, she knew,

Stopping its breathings when it breathes most soft,
Is sweeter than to play on any pipe.

She play'd on his : she fed upon his sighs;

They pleased her when they gently waved her hair,
Cooling the pulses of her purple veins,

And when her absence brought them out they pleased.
Even among the fondest of them all,

What mortal or immortal maid is more
Content with giving happiness than pain?
One day he was returning from the wood
Despondently. She pitied him, and said—
"Come back!" and twined her fingers in the hem
Above his shoulder. Then she led his steps
To a cool rill that ran o'er level sand
Through lentisk and through oleander; there
Bathed she his feet, lifting them on her lap
When bathed, and drying them in both her hands.
He dared complain, for those who most are loved
Most dare it; but not harsh was his complaint.
"O thou inconstant!" said he, "if stern law,
Bind thee, or will, stronger than sternest law,
O, let me know henceforward when to hope
The fruit of love that grows for me but here !
He spake; and pluck'd it from its pliant stem.
"Impatient Rhaicos! why thus intercept

The answer I would give? There is a bee
Whom I have fed, a bee who knows my thoughts
And executes my wishes: I will send
That messenger. If ever thou art false,
Drawn by another, own it not, but drive
My bee away! then shall I know my fate,
And (for thou must be wretched) weep at thine.
But often as my heart persuades to lay
Its cares on thine and throb itself to rest,
Expect her with thee, whether it be morn,
Or eve, at any time when woods are safe."

Day after day the Hours beheld them bless'd,
And season after season years had pass'd,
Bless'd were they still. He who asserts that Love
Ever is sated of sweet things, the same
Sweet things he fretted for in earlier days,
Never, by Zeus! loved he a Hamadryad.

The nights had now grown longer, and perhaps
The Hamadryads find them lone and dull
Among their woods: one did, alas! She call'd
Her faithful bee: 'twas when all bees should sleep,
And all did sleep but hers. She was sent forth
To bring that light which never wintery blast
Blows out, nor rain nor snow extinguishes :
The light that shines from loving eyes upon
Eyes that love back, till they can see no more.
Rhaicos was sitting at his father's hearth:
Between them stood the table, not o'erspread
With fruits which autumn now profusely bore,
Nor anise cakes, nor odorous wine; but there
The draft-board was expanded, at which game
Triumphant sat old Thallinos; the son
Was puzzled, vex'd, discomfited, distraught.
A buzz was at his ear; up went his hand,
And it was heard no longer. The poor bee
Return'd (but not until the morn shone bright)

And found the Hamadryad with her head
Upon her aching wrist; and show'd one wing
Half broken off, the other's meshes marr'd,
And there were bruises which no eye could see
Saving a Hamadryad's.

At this sight

Down fell the languid brow, both hands fell down,
A shriek was carried to the ancient hall
Of Thallinos: he heard it not his son
Heard it, and ran forthwith into the wood.
No bark was on the tree, no leaf was green,

The trunk was riven through. From that day forth
Nor word nor whisper sooth'd his ear, nor sound
Even of insect wing: but loud laments
The woodmen and the shepherds one long year
Heard day and night; for Rhaicos would not quit
The solitary place, but moan'd and died.

Hence milk and honey wonder not, O Guest!
To find set duly on the hollow stone.

JAMES HENRY LEIGH HUNT.

1784-1859.

JAFFAR.

(Inscribed to the memory of Shelley.)

Shelley! take this to thy dear memory!
To praise the generous is to think of thee.

Jaffar, the Barmecide, the good Vizier,

The poor man's hope, the friend without a peer,
Jaffàr was dead, slain by a doom unjust ;

And guilty Haroun, sullen with mistrust

Of what the good and even the bad might say, Ordain'd that no man living from that day Should dare to speak his name, on pain of death. All Araby and Persia held their breath :

All but the brave Mondeer. He, proud to show How far for love a grateful soul could go,

And facing death for very scorn and grief
(For his great heart wanted a great relief),
Stood forth in Bagdad, daily, in the square
Where once had stood a happy hɔuse, and there
Harangued the tremblers at the scymitar

On all they owed to the divine Jaffàr.

"Bring me this man!" the Caliph cried. The man Was brought, was gazed upon.

The mutes began

To bind his arms; "Welcome, brave cords!" cried he,— "From bonds far worse Jaffår deliver'd me,—

From wants, from shames, from loveless household fears,—
Made a man's eyes friends with delicious tears,
Restored me, loved me, put me on a par
With his great self,-how can I pay Jaffàr?"

Haroun, who felt that on a soul like this
The mightiest vengeance could but fall amiss,
Now deign'd to smile, as one great Lord of Fate
Might smile upon another half as great.

He said "Let Worth grow frenzied if it will!
The Caliph's judgment shall be master still.

Go! and since gifts thus move thee, take this gem,
The richest in the Tartar's diadem,

And hold the giver as thou deemest fit!"

"Gifts!" cried the friend. He took, and holding it High tow'rd the heavens, as though to meet his star, Exclaim'd-" This too I owe to thee, Jaffar!"

THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY.
(LORD MACAULAY.)
1800-1859.

THE BATTLE OF NASEBY.

(By Obadiah Bind-their-kings-in-chains-and-their-nobles-with-links-of-iron, sergeant in Ireton's regiment.)

O wherefore come ye forth in triumph from the North
With your hands and your feet and your raiment all red?