Toiling, rejoicing, sorrowing, Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, LONGFELLOW. Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog GOOD people all, of every sort, In Islington there was a Man, Of whom the world might say, A kind and gentle heart he had, And in that town a Dog was As many dogs there be, found, Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound, This Dog and Man at first were friends; But when a pique began, The Dog, to gain some private ends, Around from all the neighbouring streets The wound it seem'd both sore and sad And while they swore the Dog was mad, But soon a wonder came to light, The Dog it was that died. O. GOLDSMITH. The Outlaw O, BRIGNALL banks are wild and fair, A Maiden on the castle wall 'O, Brignall banks are fresh and fair, I'd rather rove with Edmund there, 'If, Maiden, thou wouldst wend with me, Thou first must guess what life lead we, That dwell by dale and down? And if thou canst that riddle read, Then to the greenwood shalt thou speed Yet sung she, 'Brignall banks are fair, 'I read you by your bugle horn His blast is heard at merry morn, Yet sung she, 'Brignall banks are fair, I would I were with Edmund there, 'With burnish'd brand and musketoon, So gallantly you come, I read you for a bold Dragoon That lists the tuck of drum.' 'I list no more the tuck of drum, But when the beetle sounds his hum, Yet mickle must the maiden dare, 'Maiden a nameless life I lead, The fiend, whose lantern lights the mead And when I'm with my comrades met CHORUS Yet Brignall banks are fresh and fair, SIR W. SCOTT. Battle of the Baltic OF Nelson and the North, Sing the glorious day's renown, When to battle fierce came forth All the might of Denmark's crown, And her arms along the deep proudly shone ; In a bold determined hand, And the Prince of all the land Like leviathans afloat, Lay their bulwarks on the brine; On the lofty British line : It was ten of April morn by the chime : There was silence deep as death; But the might of England flush'd And her van the fleeter rush'd O'er the deadly space between. 'Hearts of oak!' our captains cried, when each gun From its adamantine lips Spread a death-shade round the ships, Like the hurricane eclipse Of the sun. Again! again! again! And the havoc did not slack, Till a feeble cheer the Dane To our cheering sent us back ;— Their shots along the deep slowly boom : Then ceased-and all is wail, As they strike the shatter'd sail; Or, in conflagration pale, Light the gloom. Out spoke the victor then As he hail'd them o'er the wave; 'Ye are brothers! ye are men ! And we conquer but to save : : So peace instead of death let us bring; Then Denmark bless'd our chief As death withdrew his shades from the day. O'er a wide and woeful sight, Where the fires of funeral light Died away. Now joy, old England, raise ! Whilst the wine-cup shines in light; By thy wild and stormy steep, Brave hearts! to Britain's pride With the gallant good Riou ; 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! T. CAMPBELL. |