Then thou and I will live within one house, Of age to help us." So the women kiss'd Each other, and set out, and reach'd the farm. The door was off the latch; they peep'd, and saw The boy set up betwixt his grandsire's knees, Who thrust him in the hollows of his arm, And clapt him on the hands and on the cheeks, Like one that loved him; and the lad stretch'd out And babbled for the golden seal, that hung From Allan's watch, and sparkled by the fire. Then they came in but when the boy beheld : His mother, he cried out to come to her ; And Allan set him down; and Mary said: "O Father!-if you let me call you so I never came a-begging for myself, Or William, or this child; but now I come I had been a patient wife: but, Sir, he said That he was wrong to cross his father thus: 'God bless him!' he said, ' and may he never know The troubles I have gone thro'!' Then he turn'd His face and pass'd-unhappy that I am! But now, Sir, let me have my boy, for you His father's memory; and take Dora back, So Mary said, and Dora hid her face By Mary. There was silence in the room; And all at once the old man burst in sobs "I have been to blame-to blame. I have kill'd my son. I have kill'd him-but I loved him-my dear son. May God forgive me!-I have been to blame. Then they clung about The old man's neck, and kiss'd him many times. And all the man was broken with remorse; And all his love came back a hundredfold; And for three hours he sobb'd o'er William's child, So those four abode Within one house together; and as years Went forward, Mary took another mate ; But Dora lived unmarried till her death. AUDLEY COURT. "THE Bull, the Fleece are cramm'd, and not a room For love or money. At Audley Court." Let us picnic there I spoke, while Audley feast Humm'd like a hive all round the narrow quay, To Francis, with a basket on his arm, To Francis just alighted from the boat, And breathing of the sea. "With all my heart," Said Francis. Then we shoulder'd through the swarm, And rounded by the stillness of the beach To where the bay runs up its latest horn. Of meadow smooth from aftermath we reach'd There, on a slope of orchard, Francis laid A damask napkin wrought with horse and hound, |