12. It was two by the village clock

When he came to the bridge in Concord town.
He heard the bleating of the flock,

And the twitter of birds among the trees,
And felt the breath of the morning breeze
Blowing over the meadows brown.

And one was safe and asleep in his bed
Who at the bridge would be first to fall,
Who that day would be lying dead,
Pierced by a British musket-ball.

13. You know the rest. In the books you have read
How the British Regulars fired and fled-
How the farmers gave them ball for ball,
From behind each fence and farm-yard wall,
Chasing the red-coats down the lane,
Then crossing the fields to emerge again
Under the trees at the turn of the road,
And only pausing to fire and load.

14. So through the night rode Paul Revere;
And so through the night went his cry of alarm
To every Middlesex village and farm-

A cry of defiance,1 and not of fear,

A voice in the darknèss, a knock at the door,
And a word that shall echo forevermore!
For, bōrne on the night-wind of the Påst,
Through all our history, to the låst,

In the hour of darknèss and peril and need,
The people will waken and listen to hear
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,
And the midnight message of Paul Revere.

1 De fi'ance, willingness to fight; a challenge; a summons to combat.

2 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, an American poet, was born in Portland, Me., Feb. 27, 1807.

LONGFELLOW.2

He ranks very high among modern poets. His works have passed through repeated editions both in this country and in Europe.

I

VI.

94. RIDE FROM GHENT TO AIX.

1.

SPRANG to the stirrup (stăr'rup), and Joris, and he;

I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three ; "Good speed!” cried the Watch, as the gate-bolts undrew; Speed!" echoed the wall to us galloping through ;

66

Behind shut the pōstern,1 the lights sank to rest,

And into the midnight we galloped abreast.

2.

Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace-
Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place;
I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight,
Then shortened each stirrup, and set the pïque 2 right,
Rebuckled the cheek-strap, chained slacker the bit,
Nor galloped less steadily Rōland a whit.

3.

"Twas moonset at starting; but while we drew near
Lō'keren, the cocks crew and twilight dawned clear;
At Boom, a great yellow star came out to see;
At Düffeld, 'twas morning as plain as could be;

And from Mecheln church-steeple we heard the hälf-chime,
So Joris broke silence with, "Yet there is time !”

At Aerschot, up leaped of a sudden the sun,
And against him the cattle stood black every one,
To stâre through the mist at us galloping påst,
And I saw my stout galloper, Roland, at låst,
With resolute shoulders, each butting away
The haze, as some bluff river headland its spray;

5.

And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back
For my voice, and the other pricked out on his track;

1 Pōs'tern, a private entrance; a small door or gate.

2 Pique (pek), the spûr; the goad. 3 Aerschot (är'skot).

And one eye's black intelligence-ever that glance
O'er its white edge at me, his own master, askånce!
And the thick heavy spume-flakes which aye and anon
His fierce lips shook upwards in galloping on.

6.

By Hasselt, Dirck groaned; and cried Joris," Stay spur!
Your Roos galloped bravely, the fault's not in her,

We'll remember at Aix" (āks)—for one heard the quick wheeze Of her chest, saw the stretched neck, and staggering knees,

And sunk tail, and horrible heave of the flank,

As down on her häunches she shuddered and sank.

7.

So we were left galloping, Joris and I,

Past Loos and past Tongres,1 no cloud in the sky;

The broad sun above läughed a pitiless läugh,

'Neath our foot broke the brittle bright stubble, like chåff; Till, over by Dalhem, a dome-tower sprang white,

And "Gallop," gasped Joris, "for Aix is in sight!

8.

How they'll greet us!"-and, all in a moment, his roan,
Rolled neck and crop over, lay dead as a stone!
And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight
Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate,
With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim,
And with circles of red for his eye-sockets' rim.

9.

Then I cast loose my buff-coat, each holster 2 let fall,
Shook off bōth my jack-boots, let go belt and all,
Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear,

Called my Roland his pet name, my horse without peer;

Clapped my hands, laughed and sang, any noise, bad or good, Till, at length, into Aix Roland galloped and stood.

10.

And all I remember is, friends flocking round

As I săte with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground,

1 Tongres (tōng'gr).

pistol, carried at the forepart of

2 Hōl'ster, a leathern case for a the saddle.

And no voice but was praising this Roland of mine,

As I poured down his thrōat our last measure of wine,
Which (the bûrgesses 1 voted by common consent)

1

Was no more than his due, who brought good news from Ghent.

ROBERT BROWNING.2

SECTION XXV.

I.

95. CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE.

N the southern side of a rock-bound bay, at the southern extremity of Europe'an Russia, remote from the pathways of travel and commerce, on a site formidable by nature, the farseeing czär had raised, tier above tier, the frowning bulwarks of Sev'astō'pol.

2. In the midst of a wilderness of fōrts whose extended lines were seventy miles in length, seeming to defy the world, rose high above all the rest the dark, cloud-like battlements of the Malakoff.

3. Deeming this mass of fortifications the key to Russian power in this quarter, the allies determined to attack it. To this point, in September, 1854, the allied generals directed their fleets and armies. Forests of ships emptied upon the devoted shores the hostile forces, while black, smoking leviathans planted their iron batteries in threatening array along the coast.

4. Sevastopol was now encompassed by an army of sixty thousand men and a fleet carrying two thousand guns. Week by week, day by day, the besiegers advanced upon the enemy. The attack and the defence were alike marked with displays of courage and skill. All the resources of the military art were put in requisition.5

1 Burgess, a citizen of a walled town or borough.

2 Robert Browning, an English poet of great power, but marked eccentricity, was born in 1812.

4

3 Russia (rush'ĭ å).

4 Rē sources, available means; expedients of any kind.

Requisition, (rěk' wi zish' un), act of requiring; demånd.

5. On the twenty-fifth of October, early in the dim and dusky morning, thirty thousand Russians suddenly emerged from the defiles before Sevastopol upon the open plain of Băl'ä kläʼvä. There, for miles around on hill and plain, amid rocks and ravines, was seen the shock of battle-Russians on the one side, and Briton, Celt, and Turk on the other.

6. There was a series of charges and repulses, displaying in fearful colors the wild havoc of war. In the midst of the engagement, in consequence of a mistaken order, a body of six hundred British light dragoons swept in a gallop across the plain, and made an attack on the Russian army-six solid divisions of horse and six battalions of infantry,1 with thirty pieces of artillery.2

7. On all sides the armies paused and looked aghäst as they saw this movement. Soon, however, the enemy opened upon them their artillery, and they fell in swaths, man and horse, before its murderous discharges; yet on swept the gallant band, fewer and fewer as they advanced.

8. Rushing upon the enemy, they cut their way through a body of five thousand horse, wheeled and dashed back through infantry and artillery, amid sabers, bayonets, balls and bulletseach horse and rider a mark for a host. They regained their post. Of the six hundred who started only two hundred and fifty returned. This exploit is the subject of Tennyson's spir ited verses.