And the sounds of joy and grief

From her people wildly rose,

As death withdrew his shades from the day.
While the sun looked smiling bright

O'er a wide and woeful sight,

Where the fires of funeral light

Died away.

Now joy, old England, raise!
For the tidings of thy might,
By the festal cities' blaze,

Whilst the wine-cup shines in light;
And yet, amidst that joy and uproar,
Let us think of them that sleep
Full many a fathom deep,

By thy wild and stormy steep,
Elsinore ! 1

Brave hearts! to Britain's pride
Once so faithful and so true,
On the deck of fame that died,

With the gallant, good Riou 2.

Soft sigh the winds of heaven o'er their grave!
While the billow mournful rolls,

And the mermaid's song condoles,
Singing glory to the souls

Of the brave!

THOMAS CAMPBELL.

1 Elsinore: a town of Denmark, north of Copenhagen, on the sound where the battle was fought.

2 Riou (R)-00): Captain Riou of the English forces. He was killed in the battle.

GEORGE NIDIVER.

MEN have done brave deeds,
And bards have sung them well:
I of good George Nidiver

Now the tale will tell.

In Californian mountains
A hunter bold was he;
Keen his eye and sure his aim
As any you should see.

A little Indian boy

Followed him everywhere, Eager to share the hunter's joy, The hunter's meal to share.

And when the bird or deer
Fell by the hunter's skill,
The boy was always near

To help with right good-will.

One day as through the cleft
Between two mountains steep,

Shut in both right and left,

Their questing 2 way they keep,

1 Bards: poets.

2 Questing: here, roving or searching for game,

They see two grizzly bears,
With hunger fierce and fell,
Rush at them unawares

Right down the narrow dell.1

The boy turned round with screams,
And ran with terror wild;
One of the pair of savage beasts
Pursued the shrieking child.

The hunter raised his gun,

He knew one charge was all, And through the boy's pursuing foe He sent his only ball.

The other on George Nidiver

Came on with dreadful pace;

The hunter stood unarmed,

And met him face to face.

I say unarmed he stood;

Against those frightful paws,

The rifle-butt, or club of wood,

Could stand no more than straws.

George Nidiver stood still,

And looked him in the face;
The wild beast stopped amazed,
Then came with slackening pace.

Still firm the hunter stood,
Although his heart beat high;
Again the creature stopped,
And gazed with wondering eye.

1 Dell: a narrow valley, a ravine.

The hunter met his gaze,
Nor yet an inch gave way;
The bear turned slowly round,
And slowly moved away.

What thoughts were in his mind
It would be hard to spell;
What thoughts were in George Nidiver
I rather guess than tell.

But sure that rifle's aim,

Swift choice of generous part, Showed in its passing gleam

The depths of a brave heart.

1 Spell: tell.

ANONYMOUS.

SHAN VAN VOCHT.1

THE sainted isle of old,

Says the Shan Van Vocht,
The parent and the mould
Of the beautiful and bold,

Has her sainted heart waxed cold?
Says the Shan Van Vocht.

Oh! the French are on the say,2

Says the Shan Van Vocht;
The French are on the say,

Says the Shan Van Vocht.

Oh! the French are in the bay; 3

1 Shan Van Vocht: an Irish phrase meaning the Poor Old Woman; here personifying Ireland. The song was written just before the Irish rebellion of 1798.

Before the union of Ireland with Great Britain in 1800 that country was governed, or rather misgoverned, by a national parliament largely under the control of the English and of those whom the English had bought up. From this parliament all Irish Catholics were rigidly excluded, and this contributed in no small degree to intensify the hatred not only of England, but of the Orangemen, or Irish Protestants, and allies of England in the North.

At the time the song was written, the United Irishmen a strong body of Catholics pledged to reform were expecting the French to land a force on the shores of Bantry Bay and aid them in a desperate attempt to secure liberty for their country. The attempt ended in disastrous failure, but the "Shan Van Vocht" hopes yet, through the influence of Mr. Gladstone and his party, to obtain the rights which have been so long and so unjustly withheld from her. 2 Say: sea.

3 Bay: Bantry Bay, on the south of Ireland, county of Cork.