LARGE POND AT CLEVELAND HALL. 7$ 



his rifle, until the numerous wounds it had received 

 produced a more rapid decay than Nature had in- 

 tended. It presented 



* A grief- worn aspect of its former years.' 



The worthy ale-brewer and keeper saw this, and 

 probably comparing the aged tree with himself, he 

 had for some time forborne to injure it. 



On the edge of the grass-plot between the cottage 

 and the water, sat poor Mary, her hair hanging 

 loosely about her face, and surrounded as usual 

 by her poultry. They seemed to sympathize in 

 her misfortune, for every now and then they gently 

 came up to her, looked in her face, and then hovered 

 at a little distance from her. John Porter had 

 asked me to try for a pike near his cottage, which 

 he said had devoured some of Mary's ducklings when 

 they came into the water. I approached the spot 

 for that purpose, and as I came near, I observed 

 her conceal something which she had been earnestly 

 looking at. She then began to sing the following 

 plaintive lines, and as she repeated them more than 

 once in the course of the morning, I have been 

 able to retain nearly the substance of them. 



Forget thee, no ! in pain and woe, 



Thro' every change of time and tide, 

 For thee my notes of sadness flow, 



To thee my thoughts of fondness glide. 

 Then wherefore speak that idle word, 



I would not be the thing thou fearest, 

 Tho' here thy name is never heard, 



'Tis all to me, my best and dearest. 



