"Kr.cel down, Rome's emperor beside!" "Thou art the bravest youth that ever tried And from our presence forth thou go'st Then flushed his cheek, but not with pride, My wife sits at the cabin door, With throbbing heart and swollen eyes ;— She bids my tender babes deplore I can not let those cherubs stray He's gone!-No golden bribes divide Ex. LXXIV.-THE SHIPWRECK. HER giant form, O'er wrathful surge, through blackening storm, Majestically calm, would go, 'Mid the deep darkness, white as snow! WILSON But gently now the small waves glide The main she will traverse for ever and aye. Many ports will exult at the gleam of her mast. Hush! hush! thou vain dreamer! this hour is her last! Five hundred souls, in one instant of dread, Are hurried o'er the deck; And fast the miserable ship Becomes a lifeless wreck. Her keel hath struck upon a hidden rock; Her planks are torn asunder; And down come her masts with a reeling shock, And a hideous crash like thunder; Her sails are draggled in the brine, That gladdened late the skies; And her pendant that kissed the fair moonshine, Down many a fathom lies! Her beauteous sides, whose rainbow hues Gleamed softly from below, And flung a warm and sunny flush O'er the wreaths of murmuring snow, An hour before her death; And sights of home with sighs disturbed He wakes at the vessel's sudden roll, The whole ship's crew are there: Now is the ocean's bosom bare, No image meets my wandering eye But the new-risen sun, and the sunny sky. Though the night shades are gone, yet a vapor dull While a low and melancholy moan Mourns for the glory that hath flown! Ex. LXXV.-A FRENCHMAN'S RECEIPT FOR RATSBANE A FRENCHMAN once, who was a merry wight, His supper done, some scraps of cheese were left, Sans ceremonie, soon the rats all ran, ANON. At which they gorged themselves, then smelling round, Under the pillow soon the cheese they found; And while at this they regaling sat, Their happy jaws disturbed the Frenchman's nap; Who, half awake, cried out, "Hallo! hallo! Vat is dat nibbel at my pillow so? Ah! 'tis one big huge rat! Vat de diable is it he nibbel, nibbel at ?" In vain our little hero sought repose; Bawling aloud, called stoutly for a light. Bring me the bill for vat I have to pay!" The bill was brought, and to his great surprise, Ten shillings was the charge: he scarce believes his eyes. With eager haste he runs it o'er, And every time he viewed it thought it more. "Vy zounds, and zounds!" he cries, "I shall no pay; Vat! charge ten shelangs for vat I have mange? A leetal sup of porter, dis vile bed, Vere all de rats do run about my head ?" "Plague on those rats!" the landlord muttered out; "With all my heart," the jolly host replies; And den invite de rats to sup vid you; And after-no matter dey be villing For vat dey eat you charge dem just ten shelang; Dey'll quit your house, and never come no more!" Ex. LXXVI-THE MARCH OF DEL CARPIO. LOCKHART. WITH three thousand men of Leon, from the city Bernard goes, To protect the soil Hispanian from the spear of Frankish foes: From the city which is planted in the midst between the seas, To preserve the name and glory of old Pelayo's victories. The peasant hears upon his field the trumpet of the knight,He quits his team for spear and shield and garniture of might; The shepherd hears it 'mid the mist,-he flingeth down his crook, And rushes from the mountain like a tempest-troubled brook. The youth who shows a maiden's chin, whose brows have ne'er been bound The helmet's heavy ring within, gains manhood from the sound; The hoary sire beside the fire forgets his feebleness, Once more to feel the cap of steel a warrior's ringlets press. As through the glen his spears did gleam, these soldiers from the hills, They swelled his host as mountain-stream receives the roaring rills; They round his banner flocked in scorn of haughty Charle magne, And thus upon their swords are sworn the faithful sons of Spain. "Free were we born,"-'tis thus they cry," though to our king we owe The homage and the fealty behind his crest to go; By God's behest our aid he shares, but God did ne'er com mand That we should leave our children heirs of an enslavéd land. "Our breasts are not so timorous, nor are our arms so weak, Nor are our veins so bloodless, that we our vow should break, To sell our freedom for the fear of prince or paladin; At least we'll sell our birthright dear,-no bloodless prize -they'll win. |