presentment of some frightful vision. It is also matter of history, that Sir James Tyrrell and his two ferocious agents in the tragedy, either perished miserably, or died the death of traitors. To the anguish of the queen-mother, for years after the deed that robbed her of her innocent fair children, what representation can do justice? She remained, with her daughters, in the sanctuary or its precincts, till the year in which the battle of Bosworth Field took place; and was once, it is said, and only once during that period, observed to weep; - for her thoughts and her memories lay 'too deep for tears.' This was whilst listening to a dirge, chaunted to himself in a low and melancholy voice, within the cloisters of the abbey, by some one of her retainers, -a voice which she, alas, remembered but too well! DIRGE. 1. No more need of dungeons barred, To the slumberers in their cell! Parted thence why, why should it be said, 'Wail for the dead?' 2. Not because they now do miss THE SPIDER AND THE FLY. A new version of an old Story. BY MRS. HOWITT. I. "WILL you walk into my parlour?" said a spider to a fly; " "Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy. The way into my parlour is up a winding stair, And I have many pretty things to shew when you are there." "Oh no, no!" said the little fly, "to ask me is in vain, For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again." F II. “I'm sure you must be weary, with soaring up so high, Will you rest upon my little bed?" said the spider to the fly. “There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are fine and thin; And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in." “Oh no, no!” said the little fly, "for I've often heard it said, They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!" III. Said the cunning spider to the fly, what shall I do, "Dear friend, To prove the warm affection I've always felt for you? I have, within my pantry, good store of all that's nice; I'm sure you're very welcome-will you please to take a slice?" 66 "Oh no, no!" said the little fly, "kind sir, that cannot be, I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see." IV. "Sweet creature!" said the spider, "you're witty and you're wise. How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes! I have a little looking-glass upon my parlour shelf, If you'll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself." 'I thank you, gentle sir," she said, "for what you're pleased to say, And bidding you good morning now, I'll call another day." V. The spider turned him round about, and went into his den, For well he knew, the silly fly would soon come back again : So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner, sly, |