The bride kissed the goblet; the knight took it up,
He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup !
She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh,—
With a smile on her lip, and a tear in her eye.
He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar,-
"Now tread we a measure!" said young
Lochinvar.

So stately his form, and so lovely her face,
That never a hall such a galliard did grace!

While her mother did fret, and her father did fume,
And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume,
And the bride-maidens whispered, ""Twere better by far
To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar !"

One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,
When they reached the hall door, and the charger stood near;
So light to the croup the fair lady he swung,

So light to the saddle before her he sprung!

"She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur;
They'll have fleet steeds that follow!" quoth young Lochinvar.
There was mounting among Græmes of the Netherby clan;
Fosters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran;
There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lea,
But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see!
So daring in love, and so dauntless in war,
Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar ?

SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE:
1772-1834.

From "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.”

O WEDDING guest! this soul hath been
Alone on a wide wide sea:
So lonely 'twas, that God himself
Scarce seemed there to be.

O sweeter than the marriage feast,
'Tis sweeter far to me,

To walk together to the kirk
With a goodly company!

To walk together to the kirk,
And all together pray,

While each to his great Father bends,
Old men, and babes, and loving friends,
And youths and maidens gay!

Farewell, farewell; but this I tell
To thee, thou wedding guest:
He prayeth well who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast.

He prayeth best who loveth best
All things both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all.

The mariner whose eye is bright,
Whose beard with age is hoar,
Is gone: and now the wedding guest
Turned from the bridegroom's door.

He went like one that had been stunned,
And is of sense forlorn :

A sadder and a wiser man

He rose the morrow morn.

THOMAS CARLYLE:

1774.

The Sower's Song.

Now hands to seed-sheet, boys,

We step and we cast; old Time's on wing; And would ye partake of harvest's joys,

The corn must be sown in spring.
Fall gently and still, good corn,
Lie warm in thy earthy bed;
And stand so yellow some morn,

For beast and man must be fed.

Old earth is a pleasure to see

In sunshiny cloak of red and green; The furrow lies fresh; this year will be As years that are past have been. Fall gently and still, good corn, Lie warm in thy earthy bed; And stand so yellow some morn, For beast and man must be fed.

Old mother, receive this corn,

The son of six thousand golden sires; All these on thy kindly breast were born; One more thy poor child requires. Fall gently and still, good corn, Lie warm in thy earthy bed; And stand so yellow some morn,

For beast and man must be fed.

Now steady and sure again,

And measure of stroke and step we keep; Thus up and down we cast our grain:

Sow well and you gladly reap.
Fall gently and still, good corn,
Lie warm in thy earthy bed;
And stand so yellow some morn,
For beast and man must be fed.

THOMAS CAMPBELL:

1777-1844.

The 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;
By each gun the lighted brand,

In a bold determined hand,
And the Prince of all the land
-Led them on.

Like leviathans afloat,

Lay their bulwarks on the brine,
While the sign of battle flew

On the lofty British line:

It was ten of April morn by the chime:
As they drifted on their path,
There was silence deep as death;
And the boldest held his breath
For a time.

But the might of England flushed
To anticipate the scene;
And her van the fleeter rushed
O'er the deadly space between.

"Hearts of oak!" our captain 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 feebler 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 shattered sail;
Or, in conflagration pale,

Light the gloom.

Out spoke the victor then,

As he hailed 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; But yield, proud foe, thy fleet, With the crews, at England's feet, And make submission meet

To our King."

Then Denmark blessed our chief,
That he gave her wounds repose;

And the sounds of joy and grief
From her people wildly rose,

As Death withdrew his shades from the day.
While the sun looked smiling bright
O'er a wide and woeful sight,

Where the fires of funeral light
Died away.

Now joy, Old England, raise!
For the tidings of thy might,
By the festal cities' blaze,

While the wine-cup shines in light;

And yet amidst that joy and uproar,
Let us think of them that sleep,
Full many a fathom deep,
By thy wild and stormy steep,
Elsinore!

Brave hearts! to Britain's pride
Once so faithful and so true,
On the deck of fame that died,
With the gallant good Riou:

Soft sighs the wind 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.

BISHOP HEBER:

1783-1826.

From "The Passage of the Red Sea."

Он! welcome came the morn when Israel stood
In trustless wonder by th' avenging flood!
Oh! welcome came the cheerful morn, to show
The drifted wreck of Zoan's pride below;
The mangled limbs of men- the broken car—
A few sad relics of a nation's war,
Alas, how few! Then, soft as Elim's well,
The precious tears of new-born freedom fell.