Miscellaneous.

Wairarapa Standard, Volume XX, Issue 2050, 1 April 1887, Page 2 (Supplement)

Miscellaneous.

Fair Margaret and Sweet William.

As it fell out on a long summer’s day, Two lovers they sat on a hill; They sat together that long summer's day, And couldUiot talk their fill. “I sec no harm by you, Margaret, And you see none by me; Before to morrow at eight o’ the clock A rich wedding you shall sec." Fair Margaret sat in her bower-window, Combing her yellow hair; There she spyed sweet William and his bride, As they were riding near. Then down she layd her ivory combe, And braided her hair in twain ; She went alive out of her bower, But ne'er came alive in't again. When day was gone, and night was come, And all men fast asleep, Then came the spirit offair Marg'rct, And stood at William's feet. “ Are you awake, sweet William ?” she said ; “ Or, sweet William are you asleep I Ood give you joy of your gay bride-bed, And me of my winding sheet'." When day was come, and night was gone, And all men waked from sleep, Sweet William to his ladye sayd : “ My dear, 1 have cause to weep : “ I dreamt a dream, my dear ladye— Such dreams are never good ; I dreamt my bower was full of red wine, And my bride-bed full of blood.” “ Such dreams, such dreams, my honored sir, They never do prove good— To dream thy bower was full of red wine, And thyhridc-hcd full of blood." He called up bis merry men all, By one, by two, by three, Saving, “ I’ll away to fair Marg’ret’s bower. By the leave of my ladye.” And when he came to fair Marg'rcl's bower, He knocked at the ring; And who so ready as her seven brethren To let sweet William in I Then he turned up the covering sheet—- “ I’ray, let me see the dead ; Methinks she looks all pale and wan She hath lost her cherry red, “ I’ll do more for thee, Margaret, Than any of thy kin ; For I will kiss thy pale, wan lips, •Though a smile 1 can not win.” Witli that bespakc the seven brethren, Making most piteous moan : II Von may go kiss your jolly brown bride, And let our sister alone." “ If 1 do kiss my jolly brown bride, I do but what is right; I ne'er made a vow to yonder poor corpse, By day, nor yet by night. II Deal on, deal on, my merry men all, Deal on, your cake and your wine ; For whatever is dealt at her funeral to-day, Shall be dealt to-morrow at mine." Fair Margaret dyed to-day, to-day— Sweet William dyed the morrow ; Fair Margaret dyed for pure, true love— Sweet William dyed for sorrow. Margaret was buryed in the lower chancel, And William in the higher ; Out of her brest there sprang a rose, And out of his a briar. Prroii Jti’liijHni,

Kindly Advice —The poetic age has crumbled. This is the day of prose. You may improve on the prose of the men who lived years ago, but you arc not likely to improve, on their poetry. You may write rhyme that will find a welcome with editors, but your thoughts are not apt to be so well expressed as if you had delivered them in straight, unconfincd prose. Five lines of poetry may convey to a man t)i6 intelligence that he is a liar, but two lines of pr.-sc will accomplish the end in a manner much more satisfactory. Now there is young Spodmorc. The other day be sent us a poem in which it doubtless took him several days to say that the old sprim: house, on his father's farm was still there, this is -ill very pretty; /or to know that an old structure still holds its own casts a mellow plow ow r us all ; hut a well arranged paragraph t, uh ', have imparted the needed intelligence, and do ring the lime thus saved young Spodmorc eo'.ild liave half-soled his sister s shoes or made an ox-yoke. lie could have broken up an acre or so of new ground, or shelled a turn of corn. \Ve do not wish to discourage any one, but we would be veiling to bet that this young man might work for three whole weeks and then not induce an improvement on 1; Paradise Lost," and even this grand work falls short of the excellence attained by some of the ancients. When we spoke of this fact to young Spedmore he swelled up and said : " You advise me to write prose,” but vet 1 might not be able to equal some of the moderns. Must a man smother his rising desires simply because he feels that some one else has mounted to a height which he cannot attain ! I don’t think that I could write a novel like the great George Klliot, yet would you advise me to write prose fiction in the face of such facts 1 "

We must confess that the young man stunned us a little there, and we might have gone away without giving him an answer, but his persistency forced a reply. We told him that if he was not satisfied with our advice, not to write anything, and we are in hopes that he will abide by our disinterested counsel.

A Woman's Courage. With what a store of sen-go ng lore Captain Wallace has enlivened the long evenings on deck, or when our entire party sat tea-drinking in bis red vclvcted snuggery. Stories of adventure, of strange travels in all the foieign lands ; and last night lie told us something about a sister-in-law of his, that thrilled us as nothing else has done. This young English girl married a sea-captain, anil went in his sailing vessel with her husband, visiting many countries with him. On her first trip, when she was yet a young bride, there was a mutiny, and her husband was wounded, or knocked senseless in his cabin. The sailors were about to spring down the companion, way into the cabin, when the young woman barred the way, pistol in hand, and promised to shoot the first man who moved towards her. She held them thus at bay till wrath burned out, and the mutiny was at an end.

On the next voyage they were shipwrecked, and the brave-hearted girl, with her young baby, was lashed in the rigging, and remained there for several days before they were rescued, They bail nothing to cat, and the mother’s natural food for her child was exhausted. By some means a can of meat was fished up from the ship, and the child fed on this until it was all gone, and the little one about to starve. But the mother put her teeth into her band, between the thumb and forefinger, and bit a gash in her own flesh, from which the blood flowed. The child sucked this, and that night the almost dying crew and the brave sailor-wife were rescued.

A Diamond Test.— if yon doubt your diamond, do not either try to burn it or break it. You may test it with black mastic, to which, if it be real, it will adhere closely. You may even, if your cars be sharp, rub two together, and mark the indescribable grating, creaking sound— ft- bruit striihut— they give out; so do the officers of the Junta Diamantina in the Brazils with the doubtful stones; and, lastly, you may try its retractive power, for, unlike all other crystals, the diamond has no double refraction—that is to say, objects looked at through the diamond remain objects still, and are not doubled.