Familiar,

a demon or evil spirit who was supposed to al ways be with

in call, like

a servant or attendant.

Anticipate, foretaste.

And the dim, desolate deep: twelve days had Fear
Been their familiar,* and now Death was here.

Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell-
Then shrieked the timid, and stood still the brave—
Then some leaped overboard with dreadful yell,
As eager to anticipate* their grave;

And the sea yawned around her, like a hell,

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And down she sucked with her the whirling wave,
Like one who grapples with his enemy,
And strives to strangle him before he die.

Universal, general.

Remorseless, pitiless. Intervals,

from time to time. Convulsive, spasmodic.

And first one universal * shriek there rushed,
Louder than the loud ocean- -like a crash
Of echoing thunder; and then all was hushed,
Save the wild wind and the remorseless* dash
Of billows; but at intervals* there gushed,
Accompanied by a convulsive splash,

A solitary shriek, the bubbling cry

Of some strong swimmer in his agony.

HORATIUS.*—Macaulay.

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In

THOMAS BABINGTON, LORD MACAULAY (1800-1859), was distinguished as a statesman, an orator, and an essayist; but above all as a historian. brilliancy of illustration, in_graphic description, and in charm of style, he has never been surpassed. For two and a half years he held a legal appointment in India. From 1839 till 1847 he represented Edinburgh in the House of Commons. He was made a Peer in 1857. Chief works: History of England (unfinished), Critical and Historical Essays, and The Lays of Ancient Rome.

Sectus, the son of
Tarquinius Superbus,
King of Rome, who
with all his kindred
had been expelled
from the city on ac-
count of their many
crimes.

Lars Porsena was
King of Clusium, in
Etruria (Tuscany).
Craven, cowardly.

ALONE stood brave Horatius,

But constant still in mind;

Thrice thirty thousand foes before,

And the broad flood behind.

"Down with him!" cried false Sextus,* 5
With a smile on his pale face;

"Now yield thee," cried Lars Porsena,*
"Now yield thee to our grace."

Round turn'd he, as not deigning
Those craven *ranks to see;
Nought spake he to Lars Porsena,
To Sextus nought spake he;

*

ΙΟ

* Horatius Cocles, who. with Spurius Lartius and Herminius, defended the wooden bridge over the Tiber, at Rome, against the Tuscans, under Porsena.

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But fiercely ran the current,
Swollen high by months of rain,
And fast his blood was flowing,
And he was sore in pain,

And heavy with his armour,
And spent with changing blows;
And oft they thought him sinking,
But still again he rose.

Never, I ween,* did swimmer,
In such an evil case,

Struggle through such a raging flood
Safe to the landing-place :

But his limbs were borne up bravely
By the brave heart within,
And our good father Tiber
Bare bravely up his chin.

“Curse on him!" quoth false Sextus ;
"Will not the villain drown?
But for this stay, ere close of day

We should have sack'd* the town!"

Palatinus, a hill in
Rome.

Tiber, the river upon which Rome is built.

Harness, armour.

Crest, the ornament worn on the helmet. Rapturous, joyous. Tuscany, a district in the north of Italy, formerly called Etruria.

Ween, to think.

Sacked, plundered, pillaged.

Fathers, the senators of Rome.

Gory, bloody.

Molten image, a metal statue erected in his honour.

Comitium, a place in Rome where public meetings were held.

Valiantly, bravely, courageously.

"Heaven help him!" quoth Lars Porsena, 55
"And bring him safe to shore ;
For such a gallant feat of arms
Was never seen before."

And now he feels the bottom;

Now on dry earth he stands;
Now round him throng the Fathers
To press his gory * hands;
And now with shouts and clapping,
And noise of weeping loud,
He enters through the river-gate,
Borne by the joyous crowd.
They gave him of the corn-land,
That was of public right,

As much as two strong oxen

*

Could plough from morn till night:
And they made a molten image,*
And set it up on high,

And there it stands unto this day,
To witness if I lie.

It stands in the Comitium,*
Plain for all folk to see;
Horatius in his harness,
Halting upon one knee :
And underneath is written,

In letters all of gold,

How valiantly* he kept the bridge
In the brave days of old.

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JOHANN CHRISTOPH FRIEDRICH SCHILLER (1759-1805), the great German poet, was a native of Marbach, a small town of Würtemberg, situated on the banks of the Neckar. Among his works may be mentioned: The Robbers, Kabale and Leibe, Don Carlos, and The Song of the Bell.

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"OH, where is the knight or the squire so bold
As to dive to the howling Charybdis* below?
I cast in the whirlpool a goblet of gold,

And o'er it already the dark waters flow;
Whoever to me may the goblet bring,

Squire, a knight's
attendant.
Charybdis, a whirl-
pool caused by the
rush of strong tidal
currents, occasionally
dangerous to ship-

Shall have for his guerdon * that gift of his ping. There is a

king."

He spoke, and the cup from the terrible steep,
That, rugged and hoary, hung over the verge
Of the endless and measureless world of the
deep,

Swirled into the maëlstrom that maddened

the surge.

"And where is the diver so stout to go

I ask ye again—to the deep below?"`

famous one called the Maëlstrom, "grinding stream," between two Isles off the coast of Norway. Inthe Straits

of the south Lofoden

of Messina there is also a remarkable

eddy, much dreaded

by ancient mariners, but passed without difficulty by modern

seamen,

Guerdon, a reward or

And the knights and the squires that gathered recompense.
around,

Stood silent-and fixed on the ocean their

eyes;

15 They looked on the dismal and savage Profound, And the peril chilled back every thought of

the prize.

And thrice spoke the monarch-"The cup to win, Wight, crea- Is there never a wight * who will venture in ?"

ture.

Aspect, appearance. Doffing, taking off.

And all as before heard in silence the king,

*

Till a youth with an aspect unfearing but gentle,
'Mid the tremulous squires-stepped out from the ring,
Unbuckling his girdle, and doffing* his mantle;
And the murmuring crowd, as they parted asunder,
On the stately boy cast their looks of wonder.

Marge, edge. As he strode to the marge* of the summit, and gave
One glance on the gulf of that merciless main,
Lo! the wave that for ever devours the wave,
Casts roaringly up the Charybdis again;
And as with the swell of the far thunder-boom,
Rushes foamingly forth from the heart of the gloom.

sky, or the clouds.

And it bubbles and seethes, and it hisses and roars,
As when fire is with water commixed and contending,

Welkin, the And the spray of its wrath to the welkin* up-soars,
And flood upon flood hurries on, never ending
And it never will rest, nor from travail * be free,;
Like a sea that is labouring the birth of a sea.

Travail, excessive labour.

movement.

Commotion, Yet, at length comes a lull o'er the mighty commotion,* And dark through the whiteness, and still through the swell,

The whirlpool cleaves downward and downward in ocean
A yawning abyss,* like the pathway to hell;
The stiller and darker the farther it goes,
Sucked into that smoothness the breakers* repose.

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The youth gave his trust to his Maker! Before
That path through the riven abyss closed again,
Hark! a shriek from the gazers that circle the shore,- 45
And behold! he is whirled in the grasp of the main !

And o'er him the breakers mysteriously rolled,

And the giant mouth closed on the swimmer so bold.

All was still on the height, save the murmur that went,

From the grave of the deep, sounding hollow and fell, 50 Or save when the tremulous sighing lament

Thrilled from lip unto lip, "Gallant youth, fare thee

well!"

More hollow and more wails the deep on the ear-
More dread and more dread grows suspense

* in its fear.