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Regretful yearnings, singulfs and unceasing sighs, * Repine, remembrance and pain's very ecstacy: Desire I suffer sore and melancholy deep, * And I must bide a prey to endless phrenesy: I find me ne'er a friend who looks with piteous eye, * And seeks my presence to allay my misery: Say, liveth any intimate with trusty love * Who for mine ills will groan, my sleepless malady?

"The doctor says I'll pull through this all right, though I'll have a painful time of it," said the ranger, "and he told the truth, at least as far as the pain is concerned. But the pain's nothing. The thing that counts is the fact that I am safe at home. I owe it to you, Charley, and you may be sure I'll never forget."

See, he's off to sleep now his pain's gone, but where will he be if the sea rises?" The skipper groaned; it seemed hard. Lewis thought a little and said "Will you let me take him aboard of us now while it's smooth, and I'll see if we can find you a man? If Larmor of the Haughty Belle will come, can you work with him?" "Like a shot." Larmor's jaw was better, and he said

"I'll change my state with any wretch Thou canst from goale or dunghill fetch: My pain's past cure, another hell, I may not in this torment dwell, Now desperate I hate my life, Lend me a halter or a knife; All my griefs to this are jolly, None so damn'd as melancholy."

But the wildest note in all the clamour was struck by pain's forefinger, jealousy. Now, at least, he felt that keenest sting a mounting love unworthily bestowed. Whatever she might be, he loved her; he bore in his own breast his doom. A grating, comic flavour to his predicament struck him suddenly, and he laughed creakingly as he swung down the echoing pavement.

'Sing to me! cried Polly, 'the pain's awful! and taking the weary little form in her arms, Pauline sang herself back into her usual happy trust. She would not tell Belle her letter had been destroyed. She must shield Lemuel. 'I'm doing my best, she said to herself, 'God understands. 'Ain't yer mad yit? whispered Lemuel anxiously, as he peered into the bright peaceful face on his way to bed.

We have had the surgeon, but the the pain's getting worse. He's just yelling with agony." "I'll go at once, orderly. I should have been told before," she replied; and burying her own heartache, she hurried to the men's quarters. Her anxious eyes sought the surgeon's. "Oh, doctor!" she said, "this poor fellow must be looked after. What can I do to help?" "Everything, Mrs.

"Buck up and beat it. I can't take you home, an' neither can anybody else. You've got to make it alone. When you get to the Hat Ranch, send Sam Singer up to me. Remember, Donnie. Send Sam Singer up." He turned again to the waitress. "You'd better take charge here" he said. "Miss Corblay's been took sick an' the pain's somethin' terrible.

It's been pretty bad, but the pain's going now, and I think I shall be all right." Then he recognised the man on the stretcher above me. "Hullo, laddie," he said. "What have they done to you?" "I've been hit in the left wrist and the leg, sir. I hope you aren't very bad." The engine started, and we set off on our journey to the Casualty Clearing Station.

Though," she added with wistfulness, twisting her soft mouth, "though I can't ever quite see why God should care much for a Sylvie Doone." She touched the lids of her closed eyes. "I wonder why it doesn't worry me more not to be able to see. Now that the pain's gone, I don't seem to care much." "Thank God. Perhaps, though," he added half-grudgingly, "in a few days you'll see again." She smiled.