away from the land of funeral wails, where the cry of the
"wake" over some dead peasant or defiant "Rebel" echoed on the air
continually.

_Where sorrow in her weeping form,
Shed tears in sunshine, and in storm,
While o'er the land, a reign of blood
Was running like a mountain flood!_

As we pushed away from the sight of the Irish hills, Shakspere, leaning
against the foremast, in pathetic tone exclaimed:

_Farewell, old Erin, land of nameless sorrow,
Albion crushes thee for opinion's sake;
'Twixt the Bulls of Rome and Laws of England
Thy children are robbed, banished and murdered.
And cast away from native land, like leaves
Bestrewing forest wilds, bleak and lone.
Merged in lands of Liberty, thy children
Shall rise again, a new born glorious race--
Triumphant in home, church and State, honored,
Masters of War, Wit, Eloquence and Poetry.
Move out and move on, like the rising sun
Whose face so oft is clouded with shadows,
Yet, shall burst forth again in noonday splendor--
Irradiating a bleak and cruel world!_

CHAPTER XI.

RURAL ENGLAND. "ROMEO AND JULIET"

_"I know a bank where the wild thyme blows;
Where ox-lips and the nodding violet grows;
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk roses and the eglantine."_

* * * * *

_"Stony limits cannot hold love out;
And what love can do, that dares love attempt."_

We remained in Liverpool three days, and then determined to return to
London by land, crossing through the inland shires, taking in Manchester,
Sheffield, Derby, Birmingham, Coventry, Warwick, and on to Stratford, where
clustered the dearest objects of our affection.

We were ten days walking, riding and resting at taverns, in our rural tour
of Old Albion. The fields were furrowed for the grain, the birds sang from
every hedge and forest domain, the cattle, sheep and swine grazed in
lowing, bleating, grunting security along winding streams, public fields or
on the velvet meadows of rich yeoman or lordly estates, while the men,
women, boys and girls that we encountered seemed to be infused with the
delights of May blossoms, forest wild flowers and refreshing showers, all
noting the practical prosperity of England.

How different these rural scenes to those we had recently encountered in
poor down-trodden Ireland, the Niobe of nations, besprinkle