. . .h her fingers so tapering she struck the first chord,
That heard, as he dozed in his bed, the young lord.

The gallant young lord to his waiting-boy said:
“Go straight, and call hither my mother’s fair maid.”

The bedside he stroked with so gentle an air:
“Dear heart, sit thee down, for thy weight it will bear.”

“O no, by the Saints, I will never do that,
For there, noble Sir, I have ne’er before sat.”

“Though thou ne’er hast placed thee upon my bedside,
Thou hast slept in my arms embraced many a tide.

“My spouse thou shalt be, yea, my heart’s beloved spouse,
And I in thine arms every night will repose.”

p. 8A TALE FROM THE CORNISH

   In Lavan’s parish once of yore,
Dwelt on the spot called Tshei an Hor,
A loving couple, man and wife,
But poverty distressed their life.
And thus the man his wife address’. . . Read More