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A sort of thing at which one would have laugh'd,
If any laughter at such time could be,o.
Unless with people who too much have quaff'd,
And have a kind of wild and horrid glee,"
Half epileptical, and half hysterical:

Their preservation would have been a miracle.
At half-past eight o'clock, booms, hencoops, spars,
And all things, for a chance, had been cast loose,
That still could keep afloat the struggling tars,
For yet they strove, although of no great use:
There was no light in heaven but a few stars,

The boats put off o'ercrowded with their crews;
She gave a heel, and then a lurch to port,
And going down head foremost-sunk, in short.

Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell,
Then shriek'd the timid, and stood still the brave,
Then some leap'd overboard with dreadful yell,
As eager to anticipate their grave;

And the sea yawn'd around her like a hell,

And down she suck'd with her the whirling wave,
Like one who grapples with his enemy,
And strives to strangle him before he die..

And first one universal shriek there rush'd
Louder than the loud ocean, like a crash
Of echoing thunder; and then all was hush'd,
Save the wild wind, and the remorseless dash
Of billows: but at intervals there gush'd,

Accompanied with a convulsive splash,
A solitary shriek, the bubbling cry
Of some strong swimmer in his agony.

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From the unfinished Opera of "The Foresters."

WE two, each other's only pride,
Each other's bliss, each other's guide,
Far from the world's unhallowed noise,
Its coarse delights and tainted joys,

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Through wilds will roam, and deserts rude zon 4. 'For, Love, thy home is solitude.boll

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There shall no vain pretender be,f bra To court thy smiles and torture me; No proud superior there be seen; But nature's voice shall hail thee queen.

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With fond respect and tender awe,
I will receive thy gentle law,
Obey thy looks, and serve thee, still,
Prevent thy wish, foresee thy will,
And, added to a lover's care,

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Be all that friends and parents are.

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Sheridan

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STAY, lady-stay, for mercy's sake,
And hear a helpless orphan's tale:
Ah, sure my looks must pity wake—
'Tis want that makes my cheek so pale!
Yet I was once a mother's pride,

And my brave father's hope and joy :
But in the Nile's proud fight he died-
And I am now an orphan boy!

Poor foolish child! how pleas'd was I
When news of Nelson's victory came,
Along the crowded streets to fly,

To see the lighted window's flame!
To force me home my mother sought-
She could not bear to see my joy !
For with my father's life 'twas bought-
And made me a poor orphan boy!

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The people's shouts were long and loud;
My mother, shuddering, clos'd her ears;
Rejoice! rejoice!" still cried the crowd
My mother answer'd with her tears!!

"Oh! why do tears steal down your cheeks," ne
Cried I, while others shout for joy ??ť
She kiss'd me, and, in accents weak,ut I
She call'd me" her poor orphan boy !"; I

"What is an orphan boy ?" I said;

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When suddenly she gasp'd for breath,
And her eyes clos'd; I shriek'd for aid :-
But, ah! her eyes were clos'd in death!
My hardships since I will not tell :..

But now, no more a parent's joy,
Ah! lady, I have learn'd too well
What 'tis to be an orphan boy!

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Oh! were I by your bounty fed !-
Nay, gentle lady, do not chide;
Trust me, I mean to earn my bread-
The sailor's orphan boy has pride!
"Lady, you weep:--what is't you say?
You'll give me clothing, food, employ !"
Look down, dear parents! look, and see
Your happy, happy orphan boy!

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Mrs. Opie,

Lochinvar.

Он, young Lochinvar is come out of the west !! Through all the wide border his steed was the best ; And save his good broad-sword he weapon had none, He rode all unarm'd, and he rode all alone od 77 So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, 1961There never was knight like the young Lochinvar !o? He staid not for brake, and he stopp'd not for stone, He swam the Eske river where ford there was none→ But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate,

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The bride had consented, the gallant came late:

For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, woTVI Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar

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So boldly he enter'd the Netherby Hall,w 'Mong bride's-men, and kinsmen, and brothers, and Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his swordFor the poor craven bridegroom said never a word"O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war? Or to dance at our bridal? young Lord Lochinvar !"

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"I long woo'd your daughter, my suit ye denied:
Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide!
And now I am come, with this lost love of mine,
To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine!
There be maidens in Scotland, more lovely by far,
That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar !"
The bride kiss'd the goblet; the knight took it up;
He quaff'd off the wine, and he threw down the cup!
She look'd down to blush, and she look'd up to sigh,-
With a smile on her lips, 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 whisper'd, "Twere better by far

To have match'd our fair cousin with young Lochinvar!"

One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, When they reach'd the hall-door, and the charger stood near,

So light to the croupe 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.

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There was mounting 'mong 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 !

Scott.

The Battle of Blenheim.

It was a summer's evening,
Old Kaspar's work was done,
And he before his cottage door
Was sitting in the sun,

And by him sported on the green
His little grandchild Wilhelmine.

She saw her brother Peterkin

Roll something large and round,
Which he beside the rivulet

In playing there had found,

He came to ask what he had found,
That was so large, and smooth, and round.

Old Kaspar took it from the boy,
Who stood expectant by ;

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And then the old man shook his head,

And with a natural sigh,

"'Tis some poor fellow's scull," said he,
"Who fell in the great victory!

"I find them in the garden,
For there's many here about ;
And often when I go to plough,

The ploughshare turns them out:
For many thousand men," said he,
"Were slain in that great victory!"

"Now tell us what 'twas all about,"
Young Peterkin he cries;
And little Wilhelmine looks up
With wonder-waiting eyes;

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