334
NOTES AND QUERIES. [9 th s. vm. OCT. 19, 1901.
two parishes, if not at one time a four-cross
way would correspond with that selected tor
burial of a suicide in England. I presume
such a spot would be selected, partly as
affording the unauthorized sanction of the
cross, and partly as being a sort of no man s
land, not strictly either public or private
property, but, being continually worn away
and cast to the four winds, tantamount to
annihilation. I do not know if I read, heard,
or dreamt it, but I have an idea of a tradition
of the burial alive of "two proud sisters of
Winchester." They were buried upright,
with their heads above ground, and left to
perish, it being forbidden to approach them ;
one of them was sustained for a certain time
by having an apple rolled towards her.
THOMAS J. JEAKES. Tower House, New Hampton.
WEST-COUNTRYMEN'S TAILS (9 th S. vii. 286, 410 ; viii. 87, 192). MR. J. H. MATTHEWS will find in the Rev. S. Baring-Gould's 'Curious Myths of the Middle Ages' much that is interesting on this subject in the article 'Tailed Men.' Although I have lived in Devonshire all my life, I have never heard of Cornishmen having tails.
FRED. C. FROST, F.S.I.
Teignmouth.
AUTHOR OF POEM WANTED (9 th S. viii. 204, 249). There is a poem called ' A Woman's Love ' which closely resembles the description given. It is by Col. John Hay, who in 1897 came to England as Ambassador from the United States, and is now Secretary of State at Washington. It is to be found at p. 58 of
- Little Breeches and other Pieces, Humorous,
Descriptive, and Pathetic,' by Col. John Hay (London, Camden Hotten). The book is not dated, but 1871 is the date of a list of books published by Hotten which is bound with it. I believe that the poems had been published previously in the United States under another title. ' A Woman's Love ' begins : A sentinel angel, sitting high in glory, Heard this shrill wail ring out of Purgatory : " Have mercy, mighty angel, hear my story !
I loved and blind with passionate love, I fell. Love brought me down to death, and death to Hell For God is just, and death for sin is well."
She asks to be allowed to return for one hour to see and comfort " her love on earth, wh mourns for " her ; she offers for this to " pay a thousand years of fire and pain." The ange bids her repent her wild vow, the last hou of her punishment having come. Sh persists, and is allowed to go. Later sh flutters "back with broken-hearted wail ing":-
,he sobbed, " I found him by the summer sea
leclined, his head, upon a maiden's knee-
he curled his hair and kissed him. Woe is me ! "
he asks that her punishment may begin.
he angel answered, "Nay, sad soul, go higher ! Jo be deceived in your true heart's desire kVas bitterer than a thousand years of fire ! "
The book contains "The Pike County
Ballads," i.e., 'Little Breeches,' 'Jim Bludso,'
Banty Tim,' and the 'Mystery of Gilgal,'
which are perhaps better known than 'A
Roman's Love.' ROBERT PIERPOINT.
MISTAKES OF AUTHORS (9 th S. viii. 181,
52) Brewer's ' Dictionary of Phrase and
_^able' says: "Dickens is a perverted oath
corrupted from ' Nick.' " May not the word
)e a reference to or corruption of Diccon or
)ickon the Bedlam in the old play of
Gammer Gur ton's Needle'? The word is
lot, so far as I am aware, explained in any
glossary to Shakespeare.
A. COLLINGWOOD LEE. Waltham Abbey, Essex.
u ASK NOTHING MORE OF ME, SWEET " (9 th S.
389). If the lady who signs herself EVADNE be a regular subscriber to ' N. & Q.,' she has a right to complain against other contributors having neglected to answer her nquiry about the authorship of this charming ove song, and furnish the remaining verses. By accident it escaped my attention, although [ know the song well. It was written by our 3est living poet, Algernon Charles Swin- ourne, and has been set to music, but does not appear in his Third Series of ' Poems and Ballads,' 1889, or in previous volumes. I have it in manuscript, unfortunately not my own transcribing, from the music-sheet, which as usual is undated, but of about the year 1890 :
ASK NOTHING MORE OF ME, SWEET.
Ask nothing more of me, Sweet, All I can give you I give ; Heart of my heart, were it more, More would be laid at your feet. Love that would help you to live, Song that would spur you to soar : Ask nothing more of me, Sweet, Ask nothing more, nothing more.
All things were nothing, nothing to give, Once to have sense of you more, Touch you, and dream of you, Sweet, Think you, and breathe you, and live Swept of your wings as you soar, Trodden by chance of your feet I who have love and no more, Give you but love of you, Sweet.
He that hath more, let him give ; He that hath wings, let him soar : Mine is the heart at your feet, Here that must love you to live.
