Don't go to weep upon my grave, And think that there I be; They haven't left an atom there Of my anatomie.

LADY CLARE.

By A. TENNYSON.

It was the time when lilies blow, And clouds are highest up in air, Lord Ronald bought a lily-white doe To give his cousin, Lady Clare.

I trow they did not part in scorn: Lovers long-betroth'd were they: They two will wed the morrow morn: God's blessing on the day!

"He does not love me for my birth,

Nor for my lands so broad and fair; He loves me for my own true worth,

And that is well," said Lady Clare.

In there came old Alice the nurse,

Said "Who was this that went from thee?”

"It was my cousin," said Lady Clare, "To-morrow he weds with me."

"O God be thank'd!" said Alice the nurse, "That all comes round so just and fair : Lord Ronald is heir of all your lands,

And you are not the Lady Clare."

"Are

ye

out of

your mind, my nurse, my

nurse?"

Said Lady Clare," that ye speak so wild?" "As God's above," said Alice the nurse,

"I speak the truth: you are my child.

"The old Earl's daughter died at my breast,
I speak the truth, as I live by bread!
I buried her like my own sweet child,
And put my child in her stead."

"Falsely, falsely have

ye done,

O mother," she said, "if this be true;

To keep the best man under the sun
So many years from his due."

"Nay now, my child," said Alice the nurse, "But keep the secret for your life;

And all you have will be Lord Ronald's, you are man and wife.”

When

"If I'm a beggar born," she said,
"I will speak out, for I dare not lie,
Pull off, pull off, the brooch of gold,
And fling the diamond necklace by."

"Nay now, my child," said Alice the nurse, "But keep the secret all ye can;" She said "Not so: but I will know If there be any faith in man."

"Nay now, what faith?" said Alice the nurse, “The man will cleave unto his right." "And he shall have it," the lady replied, "Tho' I should die to-night."

"Yet give one kiss to your mother dear!
Alas! my child, I sinn'd for thee."
"O mother, mother, mother," she said,
"So strange it seems to me.

"Yet here's a kiss for my mother dear,
My mother dear, if this be So,
And lay your hand upon my head,
And bless me, mother, ere I go."

She clad herself in a russet gown,
She was no longer Lady Clare:
She went by dale, and she went by down,
With a single rose in her hair.