yo MEMOIR OF GEORGE WILSON. CHAP. IV. 



favourite nom de plume) quill may be given here, though the 

 contents of the book embrace grave and earnest thoughts, 

 as well as quirks and quiddities : 



MERMAIDS' TEARS. 



Pearls are the tears that mermaids weep 

 When they their midnight vigils keep, 

 For mermaids sigh, and sorrow too, 

 And weep, as well as I or you. 



Perhaps you've thought, perhaps believed, 

 That mermaids, when their hearts were grieved, 

 Wept briny tears ; 'tis even true, 

 'Tis they with salt the waves imbue. 



But tears more precious must be shed, 

 When those whom they have loved are dead, 

 The mermen of the deep, whose charms 

 Have wiled the mermaids to their arms. 



And nereids catch them in their shells, 

 And hide them where the sea-fish dwells, 

 Till years revolving tint them o'er 

 With hues they did not know before. 



Then from the depths of Eastern seas, 

 Where dive the swarthy Ceylonese, 

 The tiny shell-fish, from the rude rock torn, 

 Through waves unwelcome, to the light is borne. 



The unconscious casket of a gem, 



Dies to adorn a diadem ; 



And tears that trembled in a mermaid's eyes 



Become an English lady's prize. 



During this winter the illness of his cousin Catherine had 

 caused much solicitude. For above twelve months, she had 

 been almost entirely confined to bed, and George's letters 

 abound in the kindest messages to her. Mary's health was 

 also indifferent; and dark clouds hung over the household. 



