Many a light fishing-bark put out to pry along the coast; And with loose rein and bloody spur rode inland many a post.

4.

With his white hair unbonneted, the stout old sheriff

comes;

Behind him march the halberdiers, before him sound the

drums;

His yeomen, round the market-cross, made clear an ample

space,

For there behoves him to set up the standard of her

Grace.

5.

And haughtily the trumpet peals, and gaily dance the bells,

As slow upon the labouring wind the royal blazon swells. Look how the lion of the sea lifts up his ancient crown, And underneath his deadly paw treads the gay lilies down!

6.

So stalked he when he turned to flight on that famed Picard field,

Bohemia's plume, and Genoa's bow, and Cæsar's eagle shield:

So glared he when at Agincourt in wrath he turned to bay,

And crushed and torn beneath his paws the princely hunters lay.

7.

Ho! strike the flag-staff deep, Sir Knight; ho! scatter flowers, fair maids :

Ho! gunners fire a loud salute: ho! gallants draw your blades;

Thou sun, shine on her joyously-ye breezes waft her wide;

Our glorious SEMPER EADEM-the banner of our

pride.

8.

The freshening breeze of eve unfurled that banner's massive fold,

The parting gleam of sunshine kissed that haughty scroll of gold;

Night sank upon the dusky beach, and on the purple seaSuch night in England ne'er had been, nor ne'er again shall be.

9.

From Eddystone to Berwick bounds, from Lynn to Milford Bay,

That time of slumber was as bright and busy as the day; For swift to east and swift to west the warning radiance

spread;

High on St Michael's Mount it shone-it shone on Beachy Head.

10.

Far on the deep the Spaniard saw, along each southern

shire,

Cape beyond cape, in endless range, those twinkling points

of fire;

The fisher left his skiff to rock on Tamar's glittering

waves,

The rugged miners poured to war from Mendip's sunless

caves.

11.

O'er Longleat's towers, o'er Cranbourne's oaks, the fiery

herald flew ;

He roused the shepherds of Stonehenge, the rangers of Beaulieu.

Right sharp and quick the bells all night rang out from Bristol town,

And ere the day three hundred horse had met on Clifton

down;

12.

The sentinel on Whitehall gate looked forth into the night, And saw, o'erhanging Richmond Hill, the streak of bloodred light.

Then bugle's note and cannon's roar the deathlike silence broke,

And with one start, and with one cry, the royal city woke.

13.

At once on all her stately gates arose the answering fires; At once the loud alarum clashed from all her reeling

spires ;

From all the batteries of the Tower pealed loud the voice

of fear;

And all the thousand masts of Thames sent back a louder

cheer:

14.

And from the farthest wards was heard the rush of hurry

ing feet,

And the broad streams of flags and pikes dashed down each roaring street:

And broader still became the blaze, and louder still the

din,

As fast from every village round the horse came spurring in :

15.

And eastward straight, from wild Blackheath, the warlike errand went,

And raised in many an ancient hall the gallant squires of Kent.

Southward, from Surrey's pleasant hills flew those bright couriers forth;

High on bleak Hampstead's swarthy moor they started for the North;

16.

And on, and on, without a pause, untired they bounded still,

All night from tower to tower they sprang-they sprang from hill to hill,

Till the proud Peak unfurled the flag o'er Darwin's rocky dales

Till like volcanoes flared to heaven the stormy hills of Wales

17.

Till twelve fair counties saw the blaze on Malvern's lonely

height

Till streamed in crimson on the wind the Wrekin's crest

of light

Till broad and fierce the star came forth on Ely's stately

fane,

And tower and hamlet rose in arms o'er all the boundless

plain;

18.

Till Belvoir's lordly terraces the sign to Lincoln sent,
And Lincoln sped the message on o'er the wide vale of

Trent;

Till Skiddaw saw the fire that burned on Gaunt's embattled

pile,

And the red glare of Skiddaw roused the burghers of Carlisle.

THE UGLY DUCKLING.

How beautiful looked everything out in the fields ! It was summer, and the corn was yellow, the oats were green, the hay-ricks were standing in the verdant meadows, and the stork was walking about on his long, red legs, chattering away in Egyptian-the language he had learned from his lady-mother. The cornfields and meadows were surrounded by large forests, in the middle of which lay deep lakes. Oh, it was lovely indeed to walk abroad in the country just then!

In a sunny spot stood an old country-house, encircled by canals. Between the wall and the water's-edge there grew huge burdock leaves, that had shot up to such a height that a little child might have stood upright under the tallest of them; and this spot was as wild as though it had been situated in the depths of a wood. In this snug retirement a duck was sitting on her nest to hatch her young; but she began to think it a wearisome task, as the little ones seemed very backward in making their appearance; besides, she had few visitors, for the other ducks preferred swimming about in the canals, instead of being at the trouble of climbing up the slope, and then sitting under a burdock leaf to gossip with her.

At length one egg cracked, and then another. 'Peep! peep!' cried they, as each yolk became a live thing, and popped out its head.

'Quack! quack!' said the mother, and they tried to cackle like her, while they looked all about them under the green leaves; and she allowed them to look to their hearts' content, because green is good for the eyes.