Sir Roderick mark'd—and in his eyes
Respect was mingled with surprise,
And the stern joy which warriors feel
In foemen worthy of their steel.

Short space he stood-then waved his hand;
Down sunk the disappearing band;
Each warrior vanish'd where he stood,
In broom or bracken, heath or wood;
Sunk brand and spear and bended bow,
In osiers pale and copses low;

It seemed as if their mother Earth
Had swallowed up her warlike birth.

Walter Scott.

NAPOLEON AND THE SAILOR.

I

LOVE contemplating apart

From all the homicidal glory,
The traits that soften to the heart
Napoleon's story.

Napoleon's banners at Boulogne
Armed in our island every freeman;
His navy chanced to capture one
Poor British seaman.

They suffered him—I know not how—
Unprisoned on the shore to roam;
And aye was bent his longing brow
On England's home.

His eye, methinks, pursued the flight
Of birds to Britain half way over;
With envy they could reach the white
Dear cliffs of Dover.

A stormy midnight watch, he thought,
Than this sojourn would have been dearer,
If but the storm his vessel brought

To England nearer.

At last, when care had banished sleep,
He saw one morning-dreaming-doating,
An empty hogshead from the deep

Come shoreward floating.

He hid it in a cave, and wrought
The livelong day laborious; lurking
Until he launched a tiny boat
By mighty working.

Heaven help us! 'twas a thing beyond
Description wretched: such a wherry
Perhaps ne'er ventured on a pond,
Or crossed a ferry.

For ploughing in the salt sea field,

It would have made the boldest shudder; Untarred, uncompassed, and unkeeled, No sail-no rudder!

From neighbouring woods he interlaced
His sorry skiff with wattled willows;
And thus equipped he would have passed
The foaming billows-

But Frenchmen caught him on the beach,
His little Argo sorely jeering;

Till tidings of him chanced to reach
Napoleon's hearing.

With folded arms Napoleon stood,
Serene alike in peace and danger,
And in his wonted attitude

Addressed the stranger:

"Rash man, that wouldst yon Channel pass,
On twigs and staves so rudely fashioned;
Thy heart with some sweet British lass
Must be impassioned."

"I have no sweetheart," said the lad;
"But, absent long from one another,
Great was the longing that I had
To see my mother."

"And so thou shalt !" Napoleon said;
"Ye've both my favour fairly won:

A noble mother must have bred
So brave a son."

He gave the tar a piece of gold,
And with a flag of truce commanded
He should be shipped to England Old
And safely landed.

Our sailor oft could scantily shift
To find a dinner plain and hearty;
But never changed the coin and gift
Of Bonaparte.

Campbell.

HENRY THE FIFTH BEFORE THE
BATTLE OF AGINCOURT.

HIS day is called the feast of Crispian ;

THIS

He that outlives this day and comes safe home,

Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his friends
And say, "To-morrow is Saint Crispian!"

Then will he strip his sleeve, and show his scars, And say, "These wounds I had on Crispian's day." Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,

But he'll remember with advantages

What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in their mouths as household words-
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,

Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloster—
Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered.
This story shall the good man teach his son,
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered;

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers,
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me,
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England, now abed

Shall think themselves accursed they were not here;

And hold their manhoods cheap, while any speak That fought with us upon Saint Crispian's day.

Shakspeare.

THE LOSS OF THE ROYAL GEORGE.

OLL for the brave!

TOLL

The brave that are no more!

All sunk beneath the wave,

Fast by their native shore!

Eight hundred of the brave,
Whose courage well was tried,

Had made the vessel heel,

And laid her on her side;