There was a look of horror flashed A murmur broke along the crowd, Through sounding aisle, o'er grated stair, That fearful stranger! down he sat He took his hat and hung it up, He stripped his coat from off his back, Then from his nearest neighbor's side How fled the sugar from the bowl! They vanished like the shapes that float A long, long draught,—an out-stretched hand,And crackers, toast, and tea, They faded from the stranger's touch, Like dew upon the sea. Then clouds were dark on many a brow, Fear sat upon their souls, And, in a bitter agony, They clasped their buttered rolls. A whisper trembled through the crowd,— And some were silent, for they thought What, if the creature should arise,- All suddenly the stranger rose; Four freshmen fainted on the seat, There is full many a starving man, Yet often at the sunset hour, Ex. CXIX.-DEATH OF AGUILAR. FERNANDO, King of Aragon, before Granada lies, LOCKHART With dukes and barons many a one, and champions of em prise; With all the captains of Castile that serve his lady's crown, He drives Boabdil from his gates, and plucks the crescent down. The cross is reared upon the towers, for our Redeemer's sake: The king assembles all his powers, his triumph to partake. Yet at the royal banquet, there's trouble in his eye:"Now speak thy wish, it shall be done, great king!" the lordlings cry. Then spake Fernando:-"Hear, grandees! which of ye all will go, And give my banner in the breeze of Alpuxar to blow? Those heights along, the Moors are strong; now who, by dawn of day, Will plant the cross their cliffs among, and drive the dogs a· way ?", Then champion on champion high, and count on count doth look; And faltering is the tongue of lord, and pale the cheek of duke; Till starts up brave Alonzo, the knight of Aguilar, The lowmost at the royal board, but foremost still in war. And thus he speaks:-"I pray, my lord, that none but I may go; For I made promise to the queen, your consort, long ago, That ere the war should have an end, I, for her royal charms, And for my duty to her grace, would show some feat of arms!" Much joyed the king these words to hear,-he bids Alonzo speed; And long before their revel's o'er the knight is on his steed; Alonzo's on his milk-white steed, with horsemen in his train, A thousand horse, a chosen band, ere dawn the hills to gain. They ride along the darkling ways, they gallop all the night; They reach Nevada ere the cock hath harbingered the light; But ere they've climbed that steep ravine, the east is glowing red, And the Moors their lances bright have seen, and Christian banners spread. Beyond the sands, between the rocks, where the oid cork-trees grow, The path is rough, and mounted men must singly march and slow; There, o'er the path, the heathen range their ambuscado's line, High up they wait for Aguilar, as the day begins to shine. There naught avails the eagle eye the guardian of Castile, The eye of wisdom, nor the heart that fear might never feel, The arm of strength that wielded well the strong mace in the fray, Nor the broad plate from whence the edge of falchion glanced away. Not knightly valor there avails, nor skill of horse and spear; For rock on rock comes rumbling down from cliff and cavern drear; Down, down like driving hail they come, and horse and horsemen die Like cattle whose despair is dumb when the fierce lightnings fly. Alonzo, with a handful more, escapes into the field, There, like a lion, stands at bay, in vain besought to yield; A thousand foes around are seen, but none draws near to fight: Afar, with bolt and javelin, they pierce the steadfast knight. Ex. CXX.-SONG OF THE VERMONTERS. The following spirited verses are taken from the life of that brave nau and true patriot, Ethan Allen, and allude to the contest going on in 1780, between Vermont, New York, and New Hampshire, with reference to the separate existence of Vermont as an independent state. The contest was kept up to the close of the Revolution. Congress being unable to settle it, General Washington took it in hand, and his candor and good sense effected, through Gov. Chittenden, what Congress could not have done. J. G. WHITTIER. Ho! all to the borders! Vermonters, come down, Come down with your rifles!-let gray wolf and fox On our south come the Dutchmen, enveloped in grease; On our east, crafty Meshech has gathered his band, Ho!-all to the rescue! For Satan shall work Let Clinton and Ten Broeck, with bribes in their hands, We've coats for our traitors, whoever they are; The warp is of FEATHERS-the filling of TAR! Does the "Old Bay State" threaten?-does Congress complain? Swarms Hampshire in arms on our borders again? Bark the war-dogs of Britain aloud on the lake? Let them come !-what they CAN, they are welcome to take. What seek they among us?—The pride of our wealth Yet we owe no allegiance; we bow to no throne; Our wives are all true, and our daughters are fair, Then blithe at the sleigh-ride; the husking and ball! We've sheep on the hill-sides; we've cows on the plain, And there's fish in our streamlets and rivers, which take |