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XIV.

ON TIME.

LY, envious Time! till thou run out thy race;
Call on the lazy leaden-stepping Hours,

Whose speed is but the heavy plummet's pace;
And glut thyself with what thy womb devours,
Which is no more than what is false and vain,
And merely mortal dross;

So little is our loss,

So little is thy gain!

For when as each thing bad thou hast entombed,

And last of all thy greedy self consumed,

Then long Eternity shall greet our bliss

With an individual kiss;

And Joy shall overtake us as a flood,

When everything that is sincerely good

And perfectly divine,

With Truth, and Peace, and Love, shall ever shine

About the supreme throne

Of Him, to whose happy-making sight alone

When once our heavenly-guided soul shall climb,

Then, all this earthly grossness quit,

Attired with stars, we shall for ever sit,

Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee, O Time!

J. Milton.

XV.

SONG.

IS sweet to hear the merry lark,

That bids a blithe good morrow;

But sweeter to hark in the twinkling dark, To the soothing song of sorrow.

Oh nightingale! What doth she ail?

And is she sad or jolly?

For ne'er on earth, was sound of mirth
So like to melancholy.

The merry lark, he soars on high,
No worldly thought o'ertakes him;
He sings aloud to the clear blue sky,
And the daylight that awakes him.
As sweet a lay, as loud, as gay,
The nightingale is trilling ;
With feeling bliss, no less than his,
Her little heart is thrilling.

Yet, ever and anon, a sigh,

Peers through her lavish mirth ;
For the lark's bold song is of the sky,
And her's is of the earth.

By night and day, she tunes her lay,
To drive away all sorrow;

For bliss, alas! to-night must pass,
And woe may come to-morrow.

Hartley Coleridge.

K. John.

XVI.

KING JOHN.

ACT III. SCENE III.

KING JOHN and HUBERT.

OME hither, Hubert. O my gentle Hubert,
We owe thee much; within this wall of
flesh

There is a soul counts thee her creditor,
And with advantage means to pay thy love:
And, my good friend, thy voluntary oath
Lives in this bosom, dearly cherished.
Give me thy hand. I had a thing to say,

But I will fit it with some better time.
By heaven, Hubert, I am almost ashamed
To say what good respect I have of thee.

Hub. I am much bounden to your majesty.

K. John. Good friend, thou hast no cause to say so yet,

But thou shalt have; and creep time ne'er so slow,

Yet it shall come for me to do thee good.

I had a thing to say,—but let it go :

The sun is in the heaven, and the proud day,
Attended with the pleasures of the world,
Is all too wanton and too full of gawds
To give me audience :—if the midnight bell
Did, with his iron tongue and brazen mouth,
Sound on into the drowsy race of night;
If this same were a churchyard where we stand,
And thou possesséd with a thousand wrongs;
Or if that surly spirit, melancholy,

Had baked thy blood and made it heavy-thick,
Which else runs tickling up and down the veins,
Making that idiot, laughter, keep men's eyes

And strain their cheeks to idle merriment,
A passion hateful to my purposes;

Or if that thou couldst see me without eyes,
Hear me without thine ears, and make reply
Without a tongue, using conceit alone,
Without eyes, ears and harmful sound of words;
Then, in despite of brooded watchful day,
I would into thy bosom pour my thoughts:
But, ah, I will not! Yet I love thee well;
And, by my troth, I think thou lov'st me well.

Hub. So well, that what you bid me undertake,
Though that my death were adjunct to my act,
By heaven, I would do it.

K. John. Do not I know thou wouldst?
Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, throw thine eye
On yon young boy : I'll tell thee what, my friend,
He is a very serpent in my way;

And wheresoe'er this foot of mine doth tread,

He lies before me: dost thou understand me?

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I could be merry now.

Well, I'll not say what I intend for thee:

Hubert, I love thee;

Remember.

W. Shakespeare.

Hub.

XVII.

KING JOHN.

ACT IV. SCENE I.-A Room in a Castle.

Enter HUBERT and Executioners.

EAT me these irons hot; and look thou stand

Within the arras: when I strike my foot

Upon the bosom of the ground, rush forth,

And bind the boy which you shall find with me

Fast to the chair: be heedful: hence, and watch.

First Exec. I hope your warrant will bear out the deed.

Hub. Uncleanly scruples! fear not you look to't.

[Exeunt Executioners.

Young lad, come forth; I have to say with you.

Arth. Good morrow, Hubert.

Hub.

Enter ARTHur.

Good morrow, little prince.

Arth. As little prince, having so great a title To be more prince, as may be. You are sad. Hub. Indeed, I have been merrier.

Arth.

Mercy on me!

Methinks no body should be sad but I :
Yet, I remember, when I was in France,
Young gentlemen would be as sad as night,
Only for wantonness. By my christendom,*
So I were out of prison and kept sheep,
I should be as merry as the day is long :
And so I would be here, but that I doubt
My uncle practises more harm to me :
He is afraid of me and I of him :

* Christendom, the state of being a Christian.

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