Oft died the words upon our lips,
As suddenly, from out the fire
Built of the wreck of stranded ships,

The flames would leap and then expire.

And, as their splendour flashed and failed,
We thought of wrecks upon the main,-
Of ships dismasted, that were hailed
And sent no answer back again.

The windows, rattling in their frames,
The ocean, roaring up the beach,
The gusty blast, the bickering flames,
All mingled vaguely in our speech;

Until they made themselves a part
Of fancies floating through the brain,
The long-lost ventures of the heart,

That send no answers back again.

O flames that glowed! O hearts that yearned!
They were indeed too much akin,

The drift wood fire without that burned,

The thoughts that burned and glowed within.

H. W. LONGFELLOW.

THE WAR-SONG OF DINAS VAWR

THE mountain sheep are sweeter,
But the valley sheep are fatter;

We therefore deemed it meeter
To carry off the latter.

We made an expedition;

We met an host and quelled it;
We forced a strong position,
And killed the men who held it.

On Dyfed's richest valley,

Where herds of kine were browsing,
We made a mighty sally,

To furnish our carousing.

Fierce warriors rushed to meet us;
We met them, and o'erthrew them:
They struggled hard to beat us;

But we conquered them, and slew them.

As we drove our prize at leisure,
The king marched forth to catch us:

His rage surpassed all measure,

But his people could not match us.

He fled to his hall-pillars;

And, ere our force we led off,

Some sacked his house and cellars,
While others cut his head off.

We there, in strife bewildering,
Spilt blood enough to swim in,
We orphaned many children,
And widowed many women.

We brought away from battle,

And much their land bemoaned them,

Two thousand head of cattle,

And the head of him who owned them:

Ednyfed, King of Dyfed,

His head was borne before us;

His wine and beasts supplied our feasts,
And his overthrow, our chorus.

T. L. PEACOCK