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And six or seven shells,
A bottle with bluebells
And two French copper coins, ranged there with

careful art,
To comfort his sad heart.
So when that night I pray’d
To God, I wept, and said:
Ah, when at last we die with trancèd breath,
Not vexing Thee in death,
And Thou rememberest of what toys
We made our joys,
How weakly understood,
Thy great commanded good,
Then, fatherly not less
Than I whom Thou hast moulded from the clay,
Thou'lt leave Thy wrath and say,
“ I will be sorry for their childishness."

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COVENTRY PATMORE.

BLOW, BLOW, THOU WINTER WIND.

Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind

As man's ingratitude ;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,

Although thy breath be rude.
Heigh-ho! sing heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly;

Then, heigh-ho! the holly!
This life is most jolly!

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
Thou dost not bite so nigh

As benefits forgot :
Though thou

waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp

As friend remember'd not.
Heigh-ho! sing heigh-ho! unto the green holly :
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly :

Then, heigh-ho! the holly!
This life is most jolly!

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

THE BRIDGE OF SIGHS.

“ Drowned ! drowned!"-Hamlet.

ONE more Unfortunate,

Weary of breath,
Rashly importunate,

Gone to her death!

Take her up tenderly,

Lift her with care,-
Fashion’d so slenderly,

Young, and so fair!

Look at her garments
Clinging like cerements;

Whilst the wave constantly
Drips from her clothing;

Take her up instantly,
Loving, not loathing.-

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