And soon shall its wild erring notes be forgot,
Since early affection and love is o'ercast:
Oh! blest had my fate been, and happy my lot,
Had the first strain of love been the dearest, the last.

Farewell, my young Muse! since we now can ne'er meet;
If our songs have been languid, they surely are few:
Let us hope that the present at least will be sweet;
The present--which seals our eternal Adieu.

1807. [Now first published.]

* * * * *



RETROSPECTIVE GLEANINGS

FUNERAL OF WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR.


The death of William, almost every reader knows, was occasioned by a hurt
in the belly from the pummel of his saddle, while reducing the town of
Mantes to ashes, at Rouen on Sep. 9, 1086, in the 63rd year of his age and
21st of his reign.

The king's decease was the signal for general consternation throughout the
metropolis of Normandy. The citizens, panic struck, ran to and fro as if
intoxicated, or as if the town were upon the point of being taken by
assault. Each asked counsel of his neighbour, and each anxiously turned