...love any but that dame who, in all likelihood, had just bidden him an eternal farewell. CHAPTER VH. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it! My part of death no one so true Did share it. Twelfth Night. ABOUT ten days after the date of the preceding chapter of this history, as the brig...

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...away, breath; I im slain by a fair cntel maid. My s/iroiid of white, stuck all with yew, 0, jtreparc aßower, not aßouvr suxel, On my black coffin 1st títere be strewn ; Not a friend, not a friend greet...

...away, Jly away, breath; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white , stuck all with yew , 0! prepare it: My part of death no one so true Did share it. Piotafloiver, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be slrown; Not a friend , not a friend...

...away, fly away, breath; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, 0, prepare it ; My part of death no one so true Did share...strown ; Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown : A thousand thousand sigl1s to save, Lay me, O, where Sad true-love...

...death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away breath, I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white stuck all with yew, O ! prepare...Did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet On iny black coffin let there be strewn." — Twelfth Night. Scott has made a happy allusion to the same...

...away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, 0 prepare it ; My part of death no one so true Did share...not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strewn ; Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown : A thousand...

...death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of .white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare...strown ; Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown : A thousand thousand sighs to save, Lay me, O, where Sad true...

...death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare...strown ; Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown : A thousand thousand sighs to save, Lay me, O, where Sad true...

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