"Sickness is catching-oh, were favour so, (Your words I catch) fair one, e'er I go,

My ear should catch your voice, my eye your eye, My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet melody." 1 "Whose sportive pencil true to nature moved, Taught while it trifled, pleased while it reproved."

2 "A venomed viper bit her as she passed; Instant she fell, and sudden breathed her last." 3" Streaking the heath-clad hill

With a bright emerald thread."

4 "Perfidious king! when each conflicting guest Was clasp'd with closest fervour to thy breast, The hellish mandate to thy slaves was given That mocked th' insulted majesty of heaven." 5 "To your protection I commend me, gods! From fairies and the tempters of the night Guard me, I beseech ye!"

6 "My crimson wounds, not words, must tell
My deep and constant love:

Husband, there is no throb of pain
In dying thus for thee!"

LXVIII.

My first full of mystery, danger, and light;
O save me from hearing my second at night!
My whole

"Familiar with the waves, and free

As if their own white foam were he."

1 "Is this thy place, sad city, this thy throne, Where the wild desert rears its craggy stone?"

2 I'm a borough in England, in Scotland a stream, And an isle of the sea in the Irishman's dream.

3

66 Heard ye the weapon hurtle in the sky? Heard ye the dragon-monster's deathful cry?"

LXIX.

Of my first, it may be said,

'Tis often on my second laid.

1 The bank has fail'd: I fear you'll suffer me. 2 Elizabethan is my pedigree.

3 Early translator-knew the martyr's flame.

4 Todd Vaughan, in haste, thus often signs his name. 5 Backwards or forwards I alike am read.

6 By this, how good soe'er his sight, or clear his head.

LXX.

An author and his charming book.

1 One who "loves his poverty."

2 With lips and finger signals made of silence.

3 "Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones."

4 False Napoleon deserved a beating here.

5 "Checked for a while the Median tyrant's pride." 6 "Farewell!" said the prince" Count, without a head."

Who many errant knights hath brought to wretchedness."

9 "Quietly shining to the quiet moon."

10 A brave British prince.

11 One of three fair sisters.

12 We know his rank "by his garb of green."

13 "O dark Beth-Peor's hill!"

14 "Her figure swells to more than mortal size— The god! the god! she raptured cries."

1

2

LXXI.

My second "now, in its shelly prowe
As over the deep it strays,

Still seems to seek, in bay and creek
Its companion of other days."

This "doth men drive

To sad decay, that might contented live."

Thy Druid rites awake the dead: Rites thy brown oaks would never dare E'en whisper to the idle air."

3 "Honour to him over whose early tomb

Tears, big tears, gushed from the rough soldier's lid,

Lamenting and yet envying such a doom;

Falling for France, whose rights he battled to

resume."

4 One who his home for ever left,

"Of friends, of hope, of all bereft."

5 An honoured widow, of whom we read in holy

writ.

6 One of the angels; his name meaning,

"The Discovery of God."

7 One of Julius Cæsar's last words.

8

"By fancy seen

Stealing away with night

To slumber in their leafy screen."

LXXII.

A town and river.

1 A favoured inmate of many families.
2 The people's wisdom, in the people's words.

3 A celebrated modern tragédienne.

4 The first step you take towards discovering this. 5 Which you must be, if you do so-i.e. discover this; and what, I fear, you will not be, if you fail.

LXXIII.

The initials give the name of one
Dowered with gifts of genius rare;

His writings the delight of all

Who the poetic feeling share.

1 "To-day my Lord of Amiens and myself Did steal behind him as he lay along

Under an oak."

2 "She, leaning on a fragment twined with vine, Sang to the stillness, till the mountain shade Sloped downward."

3 Title of one of Shakespeare's plays, In Roman letters written.

4 "I am a-weary, give me leave awhile; Fye, how my bones ache! what a jaunt have I had!"

5 "A chapel nigh the field,

A broken chancel, with a broken cross

That stood on a dark strait of barren land."

6 The mountain range dividing continents.

7 The mother's hope, who deemed the battle won— "Why tarry thus the wheels which bear my son?"

8 "Courageous Richmond! well hast thou acquit thee! Lo, here this long-usurpèd royalty:

Enjoy it and make much of it.”

9 "Either I mistake your shape and making quite, Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite Call'd Robin Goodfellow. Are not you he?"

10"The river would have risen before his time And flooded at our nod."

LXXIV.

In the page you read you may see my face,
I'm before you in ledger or bill;

I stand unmoved on a solid base,
Or advance at the officer's will.

The finest of classical works in me
May be found in the British Museum;
I am also seen on an Irishman's back,
Pray notice, if ever you see 'em.