It was many and many a year ago,

In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden there lived whom you may kno
By the name of Annabel Lee;

And this maiden she lived with no other thoug
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea:

But we loved with a love that was more than 1

I and my Annabel Lee;

With a love that the wingéd seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

that was the reason (as all men know,

In this kingdom by the sea)

That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

may know

her thought

e than love

heaven

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we,

Of many far wiser than we;

And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee,

And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

And so, all the night-tide I lie down by her side

In her sepulchre there by the sea,

In her tomb by the sounding sea.

EDGAR ALLAN POE (1809-1849) was an American poet and writer of tales. Much of his poetry is remarkable for its rhythm.

【now,

night,

BUNYAN'S PILGRIM'S PROGRESS

THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY

THAT Wonderful book, the "Pilgrim's Progress," while it obtains admiration from the most fastidious critics, is loved by those who are too simple to admire it. Dr. Johnson, all whose studies were desultory, and who hated, as he said, to read books through, made an exception in favor of the "Pilgrim's Progress." That work was one of the two or three works which he wished longer. It was by no common merit that the illiterate sectary extracted praise like this from the most pedantic of critics and the most bigoted of Tories. In every nursery the "Pilgrim's Progress" is a greater favorite than "Jack the Giant-Killer."

Every reader knows the plain and narrow path as w he knows a road in which he has gone backward an ward a hundred times.

This is the highest miracle of genius, that things are not should be as though they were, that the ima tions of one mind should be the personal recollectio another. And this miracle the tinker has wrought. is no ascent, no declivity, no resting-place, no tur with which we are not perfectly acquainted. The gate and the desolate swamp which separates it fro City of Destruction, the long line of road as straigh rule can make it, the Interpreter's house and all it shows, the prisoner in the iron cage, the palace doors of which armed men kept guard and on the ments of which walked persons clothed all in gol cross and the sepulchre, the steep hill and the pl arbor, the stately front of the House Beautiful by the side, the chained lions in the porch, the green val Humiliation, rich with grass and covered with floc are as well known to us as the sights of our own stre

Then we come to the narrow place where Ap strode right across the whole of the way, to st journey of Christian, and where afterwards the p fought the good fight. As we advance, the vall comes deeper and deeper. The clouds gather ove Doleful voices, the clanking of chains, and the r of many feet to and fro are heard through the dar The way, hardly discernible in gloom, runs close mouth of the burning pit, which sends forth its its noisome smoke, and its hideous shapes to terri adventurers. Thence he goes on, amidst the snar pitfalls, with the mangled bodies of those who hav At the end ished lying in the ditch by his side.

th as well as vard and for

things which the imagina collections of ught. There

no turnstile,

The wicket
it from the
straight as a
d all its fair
ɔalace at the
n the battle-
in gold, the
the pleasant
by the way.
en valley of
:h flocks, all
in street.

e Apollyon
to stop the
the pilgrim
e valley be
er overhead
the rushing
ne darkness.

close by the
1 its flames,
› terrify the
snares and

o have per-
end of the

long valley he passes the dens in which the old giants dwelt, amidst the bones of those whom they had slain.

Then the road passes straight on through a waste moor, till at length the towers of a distant city appear before the traveller; and soon he is in the midst of the innumerable multitudes of Vanity Fair. There are the jugglers and the apes, the shops and the puppet-shows. There stand Italian Row, and French Row, and Spanish Row, and Britain Row, with their crowds of buyers, sellers, and loungers, jabbering all the languages of the earth.

Thence we go on by the little hill of the silver mine and through the meadow of lilies, along the bank of that pleasant river which is bordered on both sides by fruit trees. On the left branches off the path leading to the horrible castle, the courtyard of which is paved with the skulls of pilgrims; and right onward are the sheepfolds and orchards of the Delectable Mountains.

From the Delectable Mountains, the way lies through the fogs and briers of the Enchanted Ground, with here and there a bed of soft cushions spread under a green arbor. And beyond is the land of Beulah, where the flowers, the grapes, and the songs of birds never cease, and where the sun shines night and day. Thence are plainly seen the golden pavements and sheets of pearl, on the other side of that black and cold river over which there is no bridge.

fas tid'i ous, difficult to please.

des'ul to ry, passing from one subject to
another without order.

il lit'er ate, untaught.

sec'ta ry, a follower of some particular
teaching in religious matters; here
the reference is to Bunyan.

pe dan'tic, making a show of learning.
big'ot ed, unreasonably devoted to some
creed or opinion.

To'ry, one of a political party in Eng-
land who believed in keeping things
as they were, and supported the au-
thority of the king and the church.
the tin'ker, that is, Bunyan.
de cliv'i ty, a downward slope.
dis cern'i ble, capable of being seen.
noi'some, offensive in smell.
de lec'ta ble, delightful.

70

VANITY FAIR

JOHN BUNYAN

THEN I saw in my dream, that when they were g of the wilderness, they presently saw a town before and the name of that town is Vanity; and at the there is a fair kept, called Vanity Fair. It is kept year long; it beareth the name of Vanity Fair, b the town where 'tis kept is lighter than vanity; an because all that is there sold, or that cometh thith vanity. As is the saying of the wise, "all that com vanity."

This fair is no new-erected business, but a thing cient standing; I will show you the original of it.

Almost five thousand years agone, there were pi walking to the Celestial City, as these two honest p are. And Beelzebub, Apollyon, and Legion, with companions, perceiving by the path that the pi made, that their way to the city lay through this to Vanity, they contrived here to set up a fair; a fair w should be sold all sorts of vanity, and that should the year long; therefore, at this fair, are all such me dise sold, as houses, lands, trades, places, honors, I ments, titles, countries, kingdoms, pleasures; and d of all sorts, as lives, blood, bodies, souls, silver, gold, precious stones, and what not.

And, moreover, at this fair there are at all times k seen jugglings, cheats, games, plays, fools, apes, Here are to be and rogues, and that of every kind. too, and that for nothing, thefts, murders, false sw and that of a blood-red color.

And as in other fairs of less moment, there are th