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“ He has conned the lesson now,
He has read the book of pain; There are furrows on his brow,
I must make it smooth again.
“ Lo, I knock the spurs away;
Lo, I loosen belt and brand; Hark! I hear the courser neigh
For his stall in Fairy-land.
“ Bring the cap, and bring the vest,
Buckle on his sandal shoon; Fetch his memory from the chest
In the treasury of the Moon.
“ I have taught him to be wise,
For a little maiden's sake ;Look, he opens his bright eyes,
Softly, slowly ;-minstrel, wake!”
The sun has risen, and Wilfrid is come
He reins a steed with a lordly air,
THE LOLLARDS' TOWER.
LADY OLIVIA'S DECAMERONE.
Story, God bless you! I have none to tell, Sir.
The great contest for the county, between Sir Jacob Dunder, of Dunder-Park, and Colonel Parrot, of Bencoolen Hall, will not speedily be forgotten by those who witnessed, or shared its horrors. It was then that the awful pestilence of party-spirit began its ravages in our ancient town. Years have rolled away; and Time, the universal physician, has passed through our streets with healing on his wings: but there is not, among us, one family in which you may not trace the vestiges of the dismal visitation.
The first symptoms of the disorder were, absence of mind, neglect of business, forgetfulness of the dinnerhour, and a disposition to haunt the market-place, or loiter on the Exchange. Soon, the voice of the sufferer became loud and hoarse, the step hurried and unsteady,