And lo! in the dwelling whose walls were so bare, I trow 'twas the friend that Joe met on the street, XXVII.-GOUGAUNE BARRA. CALLANAN. THERE is a green Island in lone Gougaune Barra, In deep-valleyed Desmond :-a thousand wild fountains And its zone of dark hills-oh! to see them all bright'ning How oft, when the summer sun rested on Clara, Have I sought thee, sweet spot, from my home by the ocean, And thought of thy Bards, when assembling together High sons of the lyre, oh! how proud was the feeling, And mingled once more with the voice of those fountains And gleaned each gray legend, that darkly was sleeping Least bard of the hills! were it mine to inherit With the wrongs which like thee to our country has bound me; Still, still in those wilds might young Liberty rally, I too shall be gone;-but my name shall be spoken XXVIII, EARTH'S NOBLEMEN. THE noblest men I know on earth, Are men whose hands are brown with toil, Who, backed by no ancestral graves, Hew down the woods, and till the soil, And win thereby a prouder name Than follows kings' or warriors' famę. The working men, what'er their task, They bear upon their honest brows The royal stamp and seal of God ; God bless the noble working men, And drive the commerce of the main. XXIX. THREE DAYS IN THE LIFE OF COLUMBUS 66 (TRANSLATION)-DELAVIGNE. N the deck stood Columbus :-the ocean's expanse, Untried and unlimited, swept by his glance. Back to Spain!" cry his men ; "Put the vessel about! We venture no further through danger and doubt.”"Three days, and I give you a world !" he replied; "Bear up, my brave comrades ;-three days shall decide." He sails,—but no token of land is in sight; He sails, but the day shows no more than the night ;- The pilot, in silence, leans mournfully o'er The rudder which creaks 'mid the billowy roar ; He hears the hoarse moan of the spray-driving blast, And its funeral-wail through the shrouds of the mast; The stars of far Europe have sunk from the skies, And the great Southern Cross meets his terrified eyes; But, at length, the slow dawn, softly streaking the night, Illumes the blue vault with its faint crimson light. "Columbus! 'tis day, and the darkness is o'er.". "Day! what now dost thou see?"—"Sky and ocean. more!" No The second day's past-and Columbus is sleeping, "Shall he perish ?"-"Ay! death!" is the barbarous cry; "He must triumph to-morrow, or, perjured, mut die !'' Ungrateful and blind!-shall the world-linking sea, He traced for the Future, his sepulchre be? Shall that sea on the morrow, with pitiless waves, Fling his corse on that shore which his patient eye craves? The corse of an humble adventurer, then ; 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,- In exchange for a world, what are honors and gains? XXX. THE GLADIATOR. J. A. JONES. THEY led a lion from his den, the lord of Afric's sun-scorched plain ; There's not of all Rome's heroes ten, that dare abide this game. His bright eye nought of lightning lacked; his voice was like the cataract. They brought a dark-haired man along, whose limbs with gives of brass were bound; A dark eye, such as courts the path of him who braves a Dacian's wrath. Then shouted the plebeian crowd,-rung the glad galleries with the sound; Joy was upon that dark man's face; and thus, with laughing eye spake he: "Loose ye the Lord of Zara's waste, and let my arms be free; 'He has a martial heart,' thou sayest ;-but oh! who will not be A hero when he fights for life, for home and country, babes and wife? "And thus I for the strife prepare; the Thracean falchion to me bring, And he has bared his shining blade, and springs he on the shaggy foe; "Kneel down, Rome's emperor beside ?" he knelt, that dark man ;-o'er his brow Was thrown a wreath in crimson dyed; and fair words gild it now : "Thou art the bravest youth that ever tried to lay a lion low; And from our presence forth thou go'st to lead the Dacians of our host." Then flushed his cheek, but not with pride, and grieved and gloomily spake he; "My wife sits at the cabin door, with throbbing heart and swollen eyes ;- "I cannot let those cherubs stray without their sire's protecting care, XXXI. THE PAUPER'S DEATH-BED. MRS. SOUTHEY. TREAD softly--bow the head-in reverent silence bow ;--no passing bell doth toll, yet an immortal soul is passing now. Stranger? however great, with lowly reverence bow: there's one in that poor shed-one by that paltry bed -greater than thou. Beneath that beggar's roof, lo! Death doth keep his state! Enter no crowds attend; enter-no guards defend this palace gate. That pavement, damp and cold, no smiling courtiers tread; one silent woman stands, lifting, with meagre hands, a dying head. No mingling voices sound-an infant wail alone; a sob suppressed-again that short deep gasp, and then the parting groan! Oh! change-oh, wondrous change! burst are the prison bars. This moment there, so low, so agonised; and now beyond the stars! Oh! changestupendous change! there lies the soulless clod; the sun eternal breaks-the new immortal wakes-wakes with his God! XXXII.—THE BURNING PRAIRIE, ALICE CAREY, THE prairie stretched as smooth as a floor, As far as the eye could see, And the settler sat at his cabin door, And pulling her apron over her feet. His face was wrinkled but not old, For he bore an upright form, And his shirt sleeves back to the elbow rolled, They showed a brawny arm. And near in the grass with toes upturned, Was a pair of old shoes, cracked and burned. A dog with his head betwixt his paws, Now and then snapping his tar black jaws In the open door an ox-yoke lay, On the floor, from falling out; While she swept the hearth with a turkey wing, And filled her tea-kettle at the spring. The little girl on her father's knee, With eyes so bright and blue, From A, B, C, to X, Y, Z, Had said her lesson through; When a wind came over the prairie land, And caught the primer out of her hand. |