Grappling, clinging to their hold or Letting go, As the weaker gasped and fell "To the man who sets them free," Cried the foreman, Harry Lee, Harry Lee, the English foreman of the mine, 66 'Brings them out and sets them free, I will give that man," said he, "Twice that sum, who with a rope Face to face with death shall cope: Let him come who dares to hope! "Hold your peace!" some one replied, Standing by the foreman's side; "There has one already gone, whoe'er he be!" Then they held their breath with awe, Fainting figures reappear, On the black rope swinging clear, Fastened by some skilful hand from below; Till a score the level gained, And but one alone remained, He the hero and the last, He whose skilful hand made fast 36 47 The long line that brought them back to hope and cheer! 57 Haggard, gasping, down dropped he Harry Lee, the English foreman of the mine. Both rewards, Señor,-my name Is Ramon! I'm the drunken engineer, I'm the coward, Señor-" Here 67 Dead as stone! Francis Bret Harte. 1871. THE SONG OF THE CAMP GIVE us a song!" the soldiers cried, The outer trenches guarding, When the heated guns of the camps allied Grew weary of bombarding. 4 The dark Redan, in silent scoff, Lay grim and threatening under; And the tawny mound of the Malakoff 8 There was a pause. A guardsman said: Sing while we may, another day 12 They lay along the battery's side, Below the smoking cannon: Brave hearts from Severn and from Clyde, And from the banks of Shannon. 16 They sang of love, and not of fame; Forgot was Britain's glory: Each heart recalled a different name, Voice after voice caught up the song, Rose like an anthem, rich and strong,- Dear girl, her name he dared not speak, Beyond the darkening ocean burned And once again a fire of hell Rained on the Russian quarters, And Irish Nora's eyes are dim 20 24 28 32 36 1851. And English Mary mourns for him Sleep, soldiers! still in honored rest 40 44 Bayard Taylor. THE PATRIOT AN OLD STORY Ir was roses, roses, all the way, With myrtle mixed in my path like mad: The house-roofs seemed to heave and sway, The church-spires flamed, such flags they had, A year ago on this very day. The air broke into a mist with bells, The old walls rocked with the crowd and cries. Had I said, "Good folk, mere noise repelsBut give me your sun from yonder skies!" They had answered, "And afterward, what else?" Alack, it was I who leaped at the sun 10 5 Naught man could do, have I left undone : There's nobody on the house-tops now- At the Shambles' Gate-or, better yet, I go in the rain, and, more than needs, And I think, by the feel, my forehead bleeds, Stones at me for my year's misdeeds. Thus I entered, and thus I go! 15 20 25 In triumphs, people have dropped down dead. "Paid by the world, what dost thou owe Me?"- God might question; now instead, 'T is God shall repay: I am safer so. 30 1855. Robert Browning. THE FORSAKEN MERMAN COME, dear children, let us away; Down and away below! Now my brothers call from the bay, Now the great winds shoreward blow, |