Wakefield

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  “In some old magazine or newspaper I recollect a story, told as truth, of a man—let us call him Wakefield—who absented himself for a long time from his wife. The fact, thus abstractedly stated, is not very uncommon, nor, without a proper distinction of circumstances, to be condemned either as naughty or nonsensical. Howbeit, this, though far from the most aggravated, is perhaps the strangest instance on record of marital delinquency, and, moreover, as remarkable a freak as may be found in the whole list of human oddities. The wedded couple lived in London. The man, under pretense of going a journey, took lodgings in the next street to his own house, and there, unheard of by his wife or friends and without the shadow of a reason for such self-banishment, dwelt upward of twenty years. During that period he beheld his home every day, and frequently the forlorn Mrs. Wakefield. And after so great a gap in his matrimonial felicity—when his death was reckoned certain, his estate settled...

“There'll Never Be Peace Till Jamie Comes Hame” by Robert Burns (1759 - 1796) (written of King James VIII)



By yon castle wa' at the close of the day, 

I heard a man sing, tho his head it was grey, 

And as he was singing, the tears doon came - 

'There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame!'

'The Church is in ruins, the State is in jars, 

Delusion, oppressions, and murderous wars, 

We dare na weel sayl but we ken wha's to blame 

There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame!

'My seven braw sons for Jamie drew sword, 

But now I greet round their green beds in the yerd; 

It brak the sweet heart o my faithfu auld dame - 

There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame!

'Now life is a burden that bows me down, 

Sin I tint my bairns, and he tint his crown; 

But till my last moments my words are the same - 

There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame!'

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