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The pilot, in silence, leans mournfully o'er
The rudder which creaks 'mid the billowy roar;
"Day! what now dost thou see?"—"Sky and ocean. No
The second day's past-and Columbus is sleeping,
"Shall he perish?"-"Ay! death!" is the barbarous cry;
Shall that sea on the morrow, with pitiless waves,
One day later,-Columbus, the first among men!
But, hush! he is dreaming!-A veil on the main,
At length, o'er Columbus slow consciousness breaks,—
What will Ferdinand say? and the Future? and Spain?
In exchange for a world, what are honours and gains?
XVII.-THE DEATH OF NAPOLEON.- -M'Lellan.
They knew, by his awful and kingly look,
By the order hastily spoken,
That he dream'd of days when the nations shook, And the nations' hosts were broken!
He dream'd that the Frenchman's sword still slew-
The bearded Russian he scourged again-
Over Egypt's sands-over Alpine snows-
On the snowy cliffs where mountain-streams
He died at the close of that darksome day-
In the rocky land they placed his clay,
XVIII.-LUCY GRAY.- -William Wordsworth.
OFT I had heard of Lucy Gray: and, when I crossed the wild,
"To-night will be a stormy night-you to the town must go; And take a lantern, child, to light your Mother through the
"That, Father, will I gladly do! 'tis scarcely after noonThe minster-clock has just struck two, and yonder is the moon!" At this the Father raised his hook, and snapped a faggot-band; He plied his work; and Lucy took the lantern in her hand.
Not blither is the mountain roe:-with many a wanton stroke Her feet disperse the powdery snow, that rises up like smoke. The storm came on before its time: she wandered up and down; And many a hill did Lucy climb,-but never reached the town! The wretched parents all that night went shouting far and wide; But there was neither sound nor sight to serve them for a guide. At daybreak, on a hill they stood that overlooked the moor: And thence they saw the bridge of wood,-a furlong from the door.
They wept, and, turning homeward, cried, "In heaven we all shall meet!"
When, in the snow, the Mother spied the print of Lucy's feet. Then downwards from the steep hill's edge they tracked the footmarks small,
And through the broken hawthorn hedge, and by the long stone wall;
And then an open field they crossed; the marks were still the
They tracked them on, nor ever lost, and to the bridge they came. They followed, from the snowy bank, those footmarks, one by
Into the middle of the plank;-and farther there were none !
Yet some maintain that to this day she is a living child— That you may see sweet Lucy Gray upon the lonesome wild. O'er rough and smooth she trips along, and never looks behind; And sings a solitary song that whistles in the wind.
XIX. -MARMION AND DOUGLAS AT TANTALLON CASTLE.
Sir Walter Scott.
NoT far advanced was morning-day, when Marmion did his troop array to Surrey's camp to ride: he had safe-conduct for his band, beneath the royal seal and hand, and Douglas gave a guide. The ancient Earl, with stately grace, would Clara on her palfrey place; and whispered in an under-tone, "Let the hawk stoop, his prey is flown."
The train from out the Castle drew; but Marmion stopped to bid adieu :-"Though something I might 'plain," he said, "of cold respect to stranger-guest, sent hither by your king's behest, while in Tantallon's towers I stayed; part we in friendship from your land, and, noble Earl, receive my hand.". But Douglas round him drew his cloak, folded his arms, and thus he spoke :-"My manors, halls, and bowers, shall still be open, at my Sovereign's will, to each one whom he lists, howe'er unmeet to be the owner's peer: My castles are my King's alone, from turret to foundation stone;-the hand of Douglas is his own! and never shall, in friendly grasp, the hand of such as Marmion clasp!"
Burned Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire, and shook his very frame for ire: "Ah! this to me," he said;—“ An 'twere not for thy hoary beard, such hand as Marmion's had not spared to cleave the Douglas' head! And, first, I tell thee, haughty peer, he who brings England's message here, although the meanest in her state, may well, proud Angus, be thy mate! And, Douglas, more I tell thee here, even in thy pitch of pride,-here in thy hold, thy vassals near,(nay, never look upon your lord, and lay your hands upon your sword),-I tell thee, thou'rt defied! And if thou saidst I am not peer to any lord in Scotland here,-Lowland or Highland, far or near,-Lord Angus, thou hast lied!"
On the Earl's cheek, the flush of rage o'ercame the ashen hue of age. Fierce he broke forth :-"And dar'st thou, then, to beard the lion in his den, the Douglas in his hall? And hop'st thou hence unscathed to go?-No! by Saint Bride of Bothwell, no!-Up drawbridge, grooms!-what, warder, ho! let the portcullis fall!"
Lord Marmion turned-well was his need,—and dashed the rowels in his steed; like arrow through the archway sprung; the ponderous gate behind him rung: to pass there was such scanty room, the bars, descending, razed his plume!
XX.—0’BRAZIL-THE ISLE OF THE BLEST.—Gerald Griffin.
A Peasant, who heard of the wonderful tale,
Morn rose on the deep!—and that shadowy Isle
Rash dreamer, return! O ye winds of the main,
Night fell on the deep, amidst tempest and spray,
XXI. DOMESTIC ASIDES-TRUTH IN PARENTHESIS. -Thomas Hood.
"I REALLY take it very kind, this visit, Mrs. Skinner!
I have not seen you such an age-(the wretch has come to dinner!)
Your daughters, too, what loves of girls-what heads for painters' easels!