Who said that I had given thee up?
'Tis false, 'tis false! my Arab steed!
Thus, thus, I leap upon thy back, and
Away!--who overtakes us now shall claim thee for his pains!

Who said that thou wert sold?
I fling them back their gold.
scour the distant plains,-

1

THE WELL OF ST. KEYNE.

A WELL there is in the west country,
And a clearer one never was seen;
There is not a wife in the west country

But has heard of the Well of St. Keyne.

An oak and an elm-tree stand beside,
And behind doth an ash-tree grow,
And a willow from the bank above
Droops to the water below.

A traveller came to the Well of St. Keyne;
Joyfully he drew nigh,

For from cock-crow he had been travelling,

And there was not a cloud in the sky.

He drank of the water so cool and clear,
For thirsty and hot was he,

And he sat down upon the bank

Under the willow-tree.

There came a man from the house hard by,
At the Well to fill his pail;

On the well-side he rested it,
And he bade the stranger hail.

THE WELL OF ST. KEYNE.

66

'Now art thou a bachelor, stranger?" quoth he,

"For an if thou hast a wife,

The happiest draught thou hast drank this day
That ever thou didst in thy life.

"Or has thy good woman, if one thou hast, Ever here in Cornwall been?

For an if she have, I'll venture my life

She has drank of the Well of St. Keyne."

"I have left a good woman who never was here,”

The stranger he made reply,

"But that my draught should be the better for that, I pray you answer me why ?"

"St. Keyne," quoth the Cornish-man, "many a time Drank of this crystal Well,

And before the Angel summon'd her,
She laid on the water a spell.

"If the husband of this gifted Well Shall drink before his wife,

A happy man thenceforth is he,

For he shall be master for life.

"But if the wife should drink of it first,

God help the husband then!"

The stranger stoop'd to the Well of St. Keyne,
And drank of the water again.

'You drank of the Well I warrant betimes ?"

He to the Cornish-man said:

But the Cornish-man smiled as the Stranger spake, And sheepishly shook his head.

I hasten'd as soon as the wedding was done,
And left my wife in the porch :

But i' faith she had been wiser than me,
For she took a bottle to church."

NIGHT.

NIGHT is the time for rest;

How sweet, when labours close,

To gather round an aching breast

The curtain of repose,

Stretch the tired limbs, and lay the head

Down on our own delightful bed!

When truth that is, and truth that seems,

Mix in fantastic strife:

Ah! visions, less beguiling far

Than waking dreams by daylight are!

Night is the time for toil;

To plough the classic field,
Intent to find the buried spoil

Its wealthy furrows yield;
Till all is ours that sages taught,

That poets sang and heroes wrought.

Night is the time to weep;

To wet with unseen tears

Those graves of memory where sleep

The joys of other years;

Hopes, that were angels at their birth,

But died when young, like things of earth.