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graceful and vivacious Anne. She was a jewel, that might have 

 hung well upon Wyat's neck. How finely, and with what true 

 pathos, he deplores his hapless attachment ! 



' I see there is no sort 



Of things that live in grief, 

 Which at some time may not resort 



Whereto they have reliefe. 

 The cony hath his cave, 



The little bird his nest, 

 From heat and colde themselves to save 



At all times as they list. 

 The owl, with feble sight, 



Lyes lurking in the leaves ; 

 The sparrow in the frosty night 



May shroude her in the eaves. 

 But wo ! to me, alas ! 



' In sunne nor yet in shade, 



I cannot find a resting-place, 



My burden to unlade. 

 All things I see have place 



Wherein they bo we or bende, 

 Save thus, alas ! my woful case, 



Which no where findeth ende.' " 



" Ay, Wyat was a man amongst a million ; and I am glad you 

 still preserve your old taste for his rich but quaint beauties. But 

 pass we on to Elizabeth, the man-woman, as our old Tutor used to 

 call her. Let us fancy a verdant lawn, and broad and sheltered 

 walks stretching from where we stand down to the river ; and here 

 she comes stately and queenlike, with age, reverence, and wisdom on 

 one hand, and beauty and young manhood on the other, offering one 

 of the most singular compounds of a wise sovereign, and a vain and 

 weak woman, that history has recorded." 



"True; but with her woman's follies there mingled so much of 

 her father's arbitrary and despotic temper, that greatly as I admire 

 her policy, I dislike the sovereign. As a woman, she claims none 

 of our sympathies. Well might the English nobles look with 

 wonder and contempt on the feeble, venal, foolish, and pedantic 

 Stuart, who ascended the throne of her who swore by * God's 

 death,' and other such holiday terms ! " 



" Well, if we owe nothing else to James, we at least owe to him 

 the present beautiful fabric, for beautiful it is even to my non- 

 architectural eye. I wish Jones had finished his design, and then 

 we should have had a residence fit for a monarch. What a fine 

 attitude, and what a force of moral feeling has been given to the 

 statue of Charles ! " 



" What a different scene does it recall, and how at once does 

 imagination fill the now quiet and secluded spot with the fierce 

 fanatics that hounded him to death! Here they stand, stern and 

 grim, the heroes of a hundred battles, spiritual pride filling every 



