Obrázky na stránke

1. Name Bernardo's parents.

8. What does Bernardo say of the king 2. In what century did Charlemagne who breaks his faith? flourish?

9. Why was not Bernardo seized at the 3. Why is Alphonso called the lying king's command ? King ?

10. In what words does our champion 4. Describe Bernardo as he approaches challenge the king and his nobles ? the throne.

11. What takes place when the horn is 5. What are the words of the king as blown? Bernardo advances ?

12. In what tone did the king now ad. 6. What reply does the champion make dress him ? to the king's calumny and threat?

13. What sort of smile wonld Bernardo 7. What facts are alluded to in verse 4th? I give on leaving the hall ?



Some years since, a young New Zealander was carried to England, where he lived many years, was carefully educated, and introduced into the most refined society. When his education was completed, he returned to his home, and at once returned to the habits, the character, and the degradations of savage life. This has almost uniformly been the result of attempts to civilize and educate young savages. And why? On what principle can it be accounted for? I reply, that the work was begun too late. The impressions made upon early childhood cannot be effaced. You may take the young savage, and make a palace his home, and he is like the young ass's colt: he longs for the forest, for the lawlessness of savage life. This principle is deep, uniform, unalterable.-Rev. John Todd.

LADY. " Why wouldst thou leave me, oh! gentle child ?
Thy home on the mountain is bleak and wild,
A straw-roofed cabin with lowly wall-
Mine is a fair and pillared hall,
Where many an image of marble gleams,
And the sunshine of pictures for ever streams ! ”

Boy. “Oh! green is the turf where my brothers play,
Through the long bright hours of the summer day;
They find the red cupmoss where they climb,
And they chase the bee o'er the scented thyme;
And the rocks where the heath-flower blooms they know,
Lady, kind lady, oh! let me go!"

LADY. “Content thee, boy, in my bower to dwell;
Here are sweet sounds which thou lovest well;
Flutes on the air in the stilly noon,
Harps which the wandering breezes tune:
And the silvery wood-note of many a bird,
Whose voice was ne'er in thy mountains heard."

Boy. “My mother sings at the twilight's fall,
A song of the hills far more sweet than all;
She sings it under our own green tree,
To the babe half slumbering on her knee,
I dreamt last night of that music low,
Lady, kind lady, oh! let me go !!

LADY. " Thy mother hath gone from her cares to rest,
She hath taken the babe on her quiet breast;

Thou wouldst meet her footsteps, my boy, no more,
Nor hear her song at the cabin door;
Come thou with me to the vineyards nigh,
And we'll pluck the grapes of the richest dye!”

Boy. “Is my mother gone from her home away?
But I know that my brothers are there at play;
I know they are gathering the fox-glove's bell,
And the long fern-leaves by the sparkling well,
And they launch their boats where the blue streams flow,
Lady, kind lady, oh ! let me go!”

LADY. “Fair child, thy brothers are wanderers now,
They sport no more on the mountain's brow,
They have left the fern by the spring's green side,
And the streams where the fairy barks were tied.
Be thou at peace in thy brighter lot,
For thy cabin-home is a lonely spot!

Boy. “Are they gone, all gone from the hill ?
But the bird and the blue fly rove o'er it still,
And the red deer bound in their gladness free,
And the heath is bent by the singing bee,
And the waters leap, and the fresh winds blow,
Lady, sweet lady, oh! let me go !”

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]


Sir WALTER SCOTT. PERCY or Percival Rede of Trochend, in Redesdale, Northumberland, is celebrated in tradition as a huntsman and a soldier. He was, upon two occasions, singularly unfortunate; once, when an arrow, which he had discharged at a deer, killed his celebrated dog Keeldar; and again, when, being on a hunting party, he was betrayed into the hands of a clan called Crossar, by whom he was murdered. Mr Cooper's painting of the first of these incidents, suggested the following stanzas.

UP ROSE the sun, o'er moor and mead;
Up with the sun rose Percy Rede;
Brave Keeldar, from his couples freed,

Career'd along the lea;
The palfrey sprung with sprightly bound,
As if to match the gamesome hound;
His horn the gallant huntsman wound:

They were a jovial three !

Man, hound, or horse, of higher fame,
To wake the wild deer never came,
Since Alnwick's Earl pursued the game

On Cheviot's rueful day ;

1 See ballad of Chevy Chase, whieh relates, perhaps, a totally fictitious event, unless it may be founded on the battle of Otterbourne, (1388) the only one mentioned in history

which a Douglas fell fighting with a Percy.

Keeldar was matchless in his speed, Than Tarras, ne'er was stauncher steed, A peerless archer Percy Rede:

And right dear friends were they. The chase engross'd their joys and woes, Together at the dawn they rose, Together shared the noon's repose,

By fountain or by stream;
And oft when evening skies were red,
The heather was their common bed,
Where each, as wildering fancy led,

Still hunted in his dream.
Now is the thrilling moment near,
Of sylvan hope and sylvan fear,
Yon thicket holds the harbour'd deer,

The signs the hunters know ;With eyes of flame, and quivering ears, The brake sagacious Keeldar nears ; The restless palfrey paws and rears;

The archer strings his bow. The game's afoot !-Halloo! Halloo! Hunter, and horse, and hound pursue ;But woe the shaft that erring flew

That e'er it left the string! And ill betide the faithless yew! The stag bounds scatheless o'er the dew, And gallant Keeldar's life-blood true

Has drench'd the grey-goose wing. The noble hound—he dies, he dies, Death, death, has glazed his fixed eyes, Stiff on the bloody heath he lies,

Without a groan or quiver.
Now day may break and bugle sound,
And whoop and hollow ring around,
And o'er his couch the stag may bound,

But Keeldar sleeps for ever.
Dilated nostrils, staring eyes
Mark the poor palfrey's mute surprise,
He knows not that his comrade dies,

Nor what is death-but still
His aspect hath expression drear,
Of grief and wonder, mix'd with fear,
Like startled children when they hear

Some mystic tale of ill.
But he that bent the fatal bow,
Can well the sum of evil know,
And o’er his favourite, bending low,

In speechless grief recline;

Can think he hears the senseless clay,
In unreproachful accents say,
" The hand that took


Dear master, was it thine ?
"And if it be, the shaft be bless'd,
Which sure some erring aim address'd,
Since in your service prized, caress'd,

I in your service die;
And you may have a fleeter hound,
To match the dun-deer's merry bound,
But by your couch will ne'er be found

So true a guard as I.”
And to his last stout Percy rued
The fatal chance, for when he stood
'Gainst fearful odds in deadly feud,

And fell amid the fray,
E’en with his dying voice he cried,
“ Had Keeldar but been at my side,
Your treacherous ambush had been spied-

I had not died to-day!”
Remembrance of the erring bow
Long since had join'd the tides which flow
Conveying human bliss and woe

Down dark oblivion's river;
But Art can Time's stern doom arrest,
And snatch his spoil from Lethe's breast,
And, in her Cooper's colours drest,

The scene shall live for ever. 1. Give me soine history of Percy Rede. 10. What things shall no more rouse

2. What suggested the stanzas to Sir noble Keeldar? Walter Scott?

11. How looked the horse as he stood - 3. Describe the jovial three as they by the hound? might be seen at sunrise.

12. Who must feel the loss in the highest 4. Why “Cheviot's rueful day ?” degree?

5. What were the names and qualities 13. What may he be supposed to think of master, steed, and hound?

he hears Keeldar say? 6. In what way did the three spend the 14. By whom was bold Percy Rede mur. live-long day?

dered ? -7. Describe the scene at the thicket that 15. What were among his last words? concealed the deer.

16. What art keeps this affecting story 8. Of the wood of what tree were bows in remembrance ? chiefly made?

17. In what way is it now preserved, 9. What mean you by the “faithless besides by Cooper's picture ?



N. P. WILLIS. NAIN, so called for the pleasantness of its situation, was a town of Galilee, about two leagues from Nazareth, and not so much from Mount Tabor, between which and the city ran the river Kison. From our Saviour's meeting the funeral coming out of the

1 A river in the infernal regions whose waters caused forgetfulness.


gates, we may learn that it was a custom among the Jews to bury their dead in the day time, when their nearest friends and relations followed the corpse, which was usualiy carried in procession through the streets and public places, to the cemetries, which were generally at a considerable distance from the city, because they looked upon the graves as places full of pollution.—Calmet's Commentary on Luke vii. 11-18.

The Roman sentinel stood helm'd and tall
Beside the gate of Nain. The busy tread
Of comers to the city mart was done,
For it was almost noon, and a dead heat
Quivered upon the fine and sleeping dust,
And the cold snake crept panting from the wall,
And bask'd his scaly circles in the sun.
Upon his spear the soldier lean’d and kept
His idle watch, and, as his drowsy dream
Was broken by the solitary foot
Of some poor mendicant, he raised his head
To curse him for a tributary Jew,
And slumberously dozed on.

'Twas now high noon.
The dull, low murmur of a funeral
Went through the city—the sad sound of feet
Unmixed with voices—and the sentinel
Shook off his slumber, and gazed earnestly
Up the wide streets, along whose paved way
The silent throng crept slowly, They came on,
Bearing a body heavily on its bier ;-
And, by the crowd that in the burning sun
Walk'd with forgetful sadness, 'twas of one
Mourn'd with uncommon sorrow.

The broad gate
Swung on its hinges, and the Roman bent
His spear-point downwards as the bearers pass'd,
Bending beneath their burden. There was one--
Only one mourner. Close behind the bier,
Crumpling the pall up in her withered hands,
Follow'd an aged woman. Her short steps
Faltered with weakness, and a broken moan
Fell from her lips, thicken'd convulsively
As her heart bled afresh. The pitying crowd
Followed apart, but no one spoke to her.
She had no kinsman. He was her all-
The only tie she had in the wide world-
And he was dead. They could not comfort her.
Jesus drew near to Nain, as from the gate
The funeral came forth. His lips were pale
With the noon's sultry heat. The beaded sweat
Stood thickly on his brow, and on the worn
And simple latchets of his sandals lay
Thick, the white dust of travel. He had come
Since sunrise from Capernaum ; staying not
To wet his lips by green Bethsaida's pool,
Nor wash his feet in Kishon's silver springs,
Nor turn him southward upon Tabor's side

« PredošláPokračovať »