And then he wrote the letter to the darling Moorish slave, And this is the tender message that royal Chico gave: THE LETTER OF THE KING "Thy words have done me grievous wrong, for, lovely Mooress, couldst thou think That he who loves thee more than life could e'er to such a treachery sink?

Thy soul has infinite relations with this God, which thou canst never realize in thy being, or manifest in thy practical life, save by a devout reverence for him, and his miraculous, awful universe.

But in the hour in which the monarch used these words the word came forth, 'Thy kingdom is departed from thee!'

O, 'twere thing impossible!" "Is this duchess so heavy, messire?" sighed the nun, "is she a burden beyond even thy strength, sir knight?

Here now is advice, and in this advice thy life, thus in giving thee advice so do I give thee thy life.

Yet, if but heaven like earth incline to thee, Let my whole body be one eye to see, That not one part of me may miss thy sight! XXIV.

"In all thy works," he wrote, "remember that thou art a man; and let the fear of Him who taketh away the breath of rulers be ever before thine eyes.

For thy selfe, thou foole, should I allow Thee life thou wouldst be poyson'd by our Colledge of Physitians.

Shew thy Face without delay, or Sir Tim.

lets the curtain fall; And universal darkness buries all. LADY WINCHILSEA TO THE NIGHTINGALE Exert thy voice, sweet harbinger of Spring!

Thy heart is kind, as I have reason to know.

Must He dwell with brutal creatures? How could angels bear the sight? Was there nothing but a manger Cursed sinners could afford To receive the heavenly stranger? Did they thus affront their Lord? Soft, my child: I did not chide thee, Though my song might sound too hard; 'Tis thy mother sits beside thee, And her arms shall be thy guard.

I want thy form, thy loving breast, Mine arms of love surrounding thee,

ye tender and compassionate ladies, if Love has been propitious to your desires, say what could I, what should I, answer to such and so great words uttered by so great a goddess, if not: "Be it done unto me according to thy pleasure"?

Thy pains and sorrows have lifted thee to heaven, methinks, and freed now of thy foolish clay thou dost walk with angels and look within the face of God!

Increasing Avarice would find Thy presence in its gold enshrined.

Thy cheek is lovely as the morning rose Or bright carnation, and thy ruby blood Gives it the shining brightness of the sun.

Now as he watched these busy, skilful fingers he knew a sudden, uneasy qualm, and forthwith spake his thought aloud: "Thy hands are wondroussmall and slender, Sir Fidelis!" "Belike, messire, they shall grow bigger some day.

Thy sudden doom, O Bion, Apollo himself lamented, and the Satyrs mourned thee, and the Priapi in sable raiment, and the Panes sorrow for thy song, and the Fountain-fairies in the wood made moan, and their tears turned to rivers of waters.

But if love reach to nobler hopes above, Thy love shall scorn me not nor dread desire That seeks a carnal prey assailing us.

"Meseemeth thy thoughts are evil, messire.

Thy light is larger than mine ownI know it to be soand yet to me

Thy victories in field shall never crowne thee As this one Act shall.

My day of life must needs be short, Thy firmness must be long; Although thou art a woman, Unlike thy sex, be strong.

How many fairer, brighter forms are clustered at thy throne, Whose power might change to very wax the heart of steel or stone!