Methinks, the call is happiness, when sudden sounds the strain
That summons back the exiled heart of love to heaven again;—
No trumpet-tone of battle, but a soft note sweetly clear,
Like that which even now is heard when doves are wooing near.
THE TWO DUKES.
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BY ANN S. STEPHENS.
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One church and three dwelling houses, occupied by bishops, had already been torn down to supply material for the magnificent palace which the Duke of Somerset was erecting for himself in the Strand,—a sacrilege which the populace were beginning to feel and resent, in a manner which threatened some disturbance to the public peace. A rumor went abroad that the Duke’s workmen had received his commands to repair to Westminster on a certain day, in order to pull down the Church of St. Margaret’s, and add its materials to those already so boldly wrested from their sacred purposes.