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Up with it high; unfurl it wide; that all the host may know
How God hath humbled the proud house which wrought
His church such woe.
[point of war,
Then on the ground, while trumpets sound their loudest
Fling the red shreds, a footcloth meet for Henry of Navarre.
Ho! maidens of Vienna; Ho! matrons of Lucerne ;
Weep, weep, and rend your hair for those who never shall

return.

Ho! Philip, send, for charity, thy Mexican pistoles, That Antwerp monks may sing a mass for thy poor spearmen's souls. [bright; Ho! gallant nobles of the League, look that your arms be Ho! burghers of Saint Genevieve, keep watch and ward [raised the slave,

to-night.

For our God hath crushed the tyrant, our God hath And mocked the counsel of the wise, and the valour of the

brave.

Then glory to His holy name, from whom all glories are ; And glory to our Sovereign Lord, King Henry of Navarre. Macaulay.

The Fairy of the Sea.

THERE's a frigate on the waters, fit for battle, storm, or sun; She dances like a life-boat, though she carries flag and gun, I'm rich and blest while I can call that gallant craft my [throne. I'm king of her, and Jove himself may keep his crown and She'll stem the billows mountain high, or skim the moon

own;

lit spray;

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She'll take a blow and face a foe, like lion turned at bay Whate'er may try, she'll stand the test; the brave, the staunch, the free:

She bears a name of stainless fame, the "Fairy of the Sea." The gale is up, she feels the breath, the petrel is behind; She travels through the white foam like an arrow on the wind.

Softly, softly, hold her in-let her slacken in her pace; She'll do the pilot's bidding with a greyhound's gentle grace. [like a swan; The rocks are round her-what of that? she turns them The boiling breakers roar, but she is safely creeping on.

Hurrah! hurrah! she's clear again! More canvass! helm

a-lee !

[the Sea."

Away she bounds, like deer from hounds, the “ Fairy of I've met with life's rough-weather squalls, and run on shoals ashore; [friends no more: All passed me under scudding-sails, and friends were But when the storm-fiend did its worst, and blanched the firmest crew, [was true. No timber yawned, no cordage broke; my bark, my bark We've lived together, closely bound, too long to lightly part; I love her like a living thing; she's anchored in my heart; But Death must come, and come he may; right welcome he shall be,

So that I sleep ten fathoms deep in the "Fairy of the Sea." Eliza Cook.

Helvellyn.

I CLIMB'D the dark brow of the mighty Helvellyn,
Lakes and mountains beneath me gleam'd misty and
wide;

All was still, save by fits, when the eagle was yelling,
And starting around me the echoes replied.

On the right, Striden-edge round the Red-tarn was bending,
And Catchedicam its left verge was defending,

One huge nameless rock in the front was ascending, When I marked the sad spot where the wanderer had died.

Dark green was that spot 'mid the brown mountain-heather,
Where the Pilgrim of Nature lay stretch'd in decay,
Like the corpse of an outcast abandon'd to weather,
Till the mountain winds wasted the tenantless clay. ·
Nor yet quite deserted, though lonely extended,
For, faithful in death, his mute favourite attended,
The much-loved remains of her master defended,
And chased the hill-fox and the raven away.

How long didst thou think that his silence was slumber? When the wind waved his garment, how oft didst thou start?

How many long days and long weeks didst thou number, Ere he faded before thee, the friend of thy heart?

And, oh! was it meet, that-no requiem read o'er him-
No mother to weep, and no friend to deplore him,
And thou, little guardian, alone stretch'd before him—

Unhonour'd the Pilgrim from life should depart? When a Prince to the fate of the Peasant has yielded, The tapestry waves dark round the dim-lighted hall; With scutcheons of silver the coffin is shielded,

And pages stand mute by the canopied pall : Through the courts, at deep midnight, the torches are gleaming;

In the proudly-arch'd chapel the banners are beaming,
Far adown the long aisle sacred music is streaming,
Lamenting a Chief of the people should fall.

But meeter for thee, gentle lover of nature,

To lay down thy head like the meek mountain lamb, When, wilder'd, he drops from some cliff huge in stature, And draws his last sob by the side of his dam. And more stately thy couch by this desert lake lying, Thy obsequies sung by the grey plover flying, With one faithful friend but to witness thy dying, In the arms of Helvellyn and Catchedicam !

"No."

Scott.

WOULD ye learn the bravest thing that man can ever do?
Would ye be an uncrowned king; absolute and true?
Would ye seek to emulate all we learn in story,

Of the noble, just, and great; rich in real glory?
Would ye lose much bitter care in your lot below?—
Bravely speak out when and where 'tis right to utter "No."
Learn to speak this little word in its proper place-
Let no timid doubt be heard, clothed with sceptic grace;
Let thy lips, without disguise, boldly pour it out;
Though a thousand dulcet lies keep hovering about.
For be sure our lives would lose future years of woe;
If our courage could refuse the present hour with "No."
When Temptation's form would lead to some pleasant wrong,
When she tunes her hollow reed to the syren's song-
When she offers bribe and smile, and our conscience feels
There is nought but shining guile in the gift she deals;

Then, oh! then, let courage rise to its strongest flow;
Show that ye are brave as wise, and firmly answer "No."
Hearts that are too often given, like street merchandize—
Hearts that like bought slaves are driven in fair Freedom's
guise;

Ye that poison soul and mind with perjury's foul stains;
Ye who let the cold world bind in joyless marriage chains;
Be ye true unto yourselves; let rank and fortune go;
If Love light not the altar spot, let Feeling answer “No.”
Men with goodly spirits blest, willing to do right;
Yet who stand with wavering breast beneath Persuasion's
might;

When companions seek to taunt judgment into sin;
When the loud laugh fain would daunt your better voice

within ;

Oh! be sure ye'll never meet more insidious foe;

But strike the coward to your feet, by Reason's watchword, "No!"

Ah! how many thorns we wreathe to twine our brows around;

By not knowing when to breathe this important sound.
Many a breast has rued the day when it reckoned less
Of fruits upon the moral "Nay" than flowers upon the
"Yes."

Many a sad, repentant thought turns to "long ago;"
When a luckless fate was wrought by want of saying "No."

Few have learnt to speak this word when it should be spoken;

Resolution is deferred, vows to virtue broken.

More of courage is required, this one word to say,
Than to stand where shots are fired in the battle fray.
Use it fitly, and ye'll see many a lot below

May be schooled, and nobly ruled by power to utter "No."
Eliza Cook.

The Armada.

ATTEND, all ye who list to hear our noble England's praise; I tell of the thrice famous deeds she wrought in ancient days, When that great fleet invincible against her bore in vain The richest spoils of Mexico, the stoutest hearts of Spain.

It was about the lovely close of a warm summer day, There came a gallant merchant-ship full sail to Plymouth

Bay;

[isle,

Her crew hath seen Castile's black fleet, beyond Aurigny's At earliest twilight, on the waves lie heaving many a mile. At sunrise she escaped their van, by God's especial grace; And the tall Pinta, till the noon, had held her close in chase. Forthwith a guard at every gun was placed along the wall; The beacon blazed upon the roof of Edgecumbe's lofty hall; Many a light fishing-bark put out to pry along the coast, And with loose rein and bloody spur rode inland many a post. With his white hair un bonneted, the stout old sheriff comes; Behind him march the halberdiers; before him sound the drums;

[space;

His yeomen round the market cross make clear an ample
For there behoves him to set up the standard of Her Grace.
And haughtily the trumpets peal, 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.
So stalked he when he turned to flight, on that famed
Picard field,
[shield.
Bohemia's plume, and Genoa's bow, and Cæsar's eagle
So glared he when at Agincourt in wrath he turned to bay,
And crushed and torn beneath his claws the princely
hunters lay.
[flowers, fair maids:
Ho strike the flagstaff deep, Sir Knight: ho! scatter
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.

The freshening breeze of eve unfurled that banner's massy fold; [gold; The parting gleam of sunshine kissed that haughty scroll of Night sank upon the dusky beach, and on the purple sea, Such night in England ne'er had been, nor e'er again shall be. Macaulay.

The Fire-King.

BOLD knights and fair dames, to my harp give an ear,
Of love, and of war, and of wonder to hear;
And you haply may sigh, in the midst of your glee,
At the tale of Count Albert, and fair Rosalie.

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