27. "Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, Mutt'ring his wayward fancies he would rove; Now drooping, woful, wan, like one forlorn, Or craz'd with care or cross'd in hopless love. 28. "One morn, I miss'd him on th' accustom'd hill, Along the heath, and near his fav'rite tree; Another came, nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he; 29. "The next, with dirges due, in sad array, Slow through the churchway path we saw him Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay, THE EPITAPH. 30. HERE rests his head upon the lap of Earth A youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown: 31. Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere, He gain'd from Heav'n, 'twas all he wish'd, a friend. 32. No farther seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode : (There they alike in trembling hope repose) The bosom of his Father and his God. GRAY. It is said that Wolfe, the conqueror of Quebec, declared that he would rather be the author of this poem than take Quebec. (See Fifth Reader, p. 138.) MARSTON MOOR. [WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED, born 1801, gave early promise of great distinction, which was cut short by his death, 15th July, 1839.] 1. To horse! to horse! Sir Nicholas; the clarion's note is high! To horse! to horse! Sir Nicholas; the big drum makes reply! Ere this, hath Lucas marched, with his gallant cavaliers, And the bray of Rupert's trumpets grows fainter in our ears. To horse! to horse! Sir Nicholas White Guy is at the door, And the raven whets his beak o'er the field of Marston Moor. 2. Up rose the Lady Alice from her brief and broken prayer, And she brought a silken banner down the narrow turret-stair; Oh! many were the tears that those radiant eyes had shed, As she traced the bright word "Glory" in the gay and glancing thread; And mournful was the smile which o'er those lovely features ran, As she said, "It is your lady's gift; unfurl it in the van!" 3. "It shall flutter, noble lady, where the best and boldest ride, Midst the steel-clad files of Skippon, the black dragoons of pride; The recreant heart of Fairfax shall feel a sicklier qualm, And the rebel lips of Oliver give out a louder psalm, When they see my lady's gewgaw flaunt proudly on their wing, And hear her loyal soldiers shout, "For God and for the King!" 4. 'Tis soon! The ranks are broken! along the royal line They fly, the braggarts of the court! the bullies of the Rhine! Stout Langdale's cheer is heard no more, and Astley's helm is down, And Rupert sheathes his rapier with a curse and with a frown; And cold Newcastle mutters, as he follows in their flight, "The German boar had better far have supped in York to-night." 5. The knight is left alone, his steel-cap cleft in twain, His good buff jerkin crimson'd o'er with many a gory stain; Yet still he waves his banner, and cries, amid the rout, "For Church and King, fair gentlemen! spur on, and fight it out!" And now he wards a Roundhead's pike, and now he hums a stave, And now he quotes a stage-play,—and now he fells a knave! 6. Heaven aid thee now, Sir Nicholas! thou hast no thought of fear; Heaven aid thee now, Sir Nicholas ! for fearful odds are here! The rebels hem thee in, and, at every cut and thrust, "Down, down," they cry, "with Belial! down with him to the dust!" "I would," quoth grim old Oliver, "that Belial's trusty sword This day were doing battle for the saints and for the Lord!" 7. The Lady Alice sits with her maidens in her bower, The gray-haired warder watches from the castle's topmost tower; "What news? what news, old Hubert?". "The battle's lost and won: The royal troops are melting, like mists before the sun! And a wounded man approaches-I'm blind and cannot see, Yet, sure I am, that sturdy step my master's step must be !" 8. "I've brought thee back thy banner from as rude and red a fray As e'er was proof of soldier's thew, or theme for minstrel's lay! Here, Hubert, bring the silver bowl, and liquor quantum suff., I'll make a shift to drain it yet, ere I part with boots and buff Though Guy, through many a gaping wound, is breathing forth his life, And I come to thee a landless man, my fond and faithful wife! 9. "Sweet, we will fill our money-bags, and freight a ship for France, And mourn in merry Paris for this poor land's mischance : For if the worst befall me, why, better axe and rope, Than life with Lenthall for a king, and Peters for a pope! Alas! alas! my gallant Guy!- curse on the cropeared boor Who sent me, with my standard, on foot from Marston Moor.-Perhaps the greatest battle of the Civil War, fought 2nd July, 1644, on Marston Moor, four miles from York. Cavaliers.-The name given to the adherents of the king in the Civil War. Fairfax.--The commander of the Parliamentary forces in the North. He commanded the forces at the battle of Marston Moor. Oliver.-Oliver Cromwell, afterwards Lord Protector of England, the greatest Englishman of the seventeenth century. Rupert.-Prince Rupert, nephew of Charles I., a dashing but unfortunate cavalry officer, who commanded the cavaliers in the Civil War. Newcastle.-The Earl of Newcastle, who commanded for the king in the North. The German boar.-Prince Rupert. Roundhead.-The name given to those who opposed King Charles. They were so called from having their hair closely cropped. Belial.-Bible ternis were much in use in the times of the Puritans. "Sons of Belial" meant wicked persons. Quantum suff.-Part of a Latin phrase, which in full is quantum sufficit, and means as much as is sufficient." Crop-eared boor.-A Roundhead. THE EVENING CLOUD. [JOHN WILSON, better known as Christopher North, was born 19th May, 1785; was appointed Professor of Moral Philosophy in Edinburgh University in 1820, an office which he held until his death in 1854. He is better known by his prose writings than by his poetry. He was the principal contributor to the "Noctes Ambrosianæ."] A CLOUD lay cradled near the setting sun, E |