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 klä'vä. 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.?

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.

2. "Forward, the Light Brigade!"
Was there a man dismayed?
Not though the soldiers knew
Some one had blundered:
Thêirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die-
Into the valley of death
Rode the six hundred.

3. Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them

Volleyed and thundered;
Stormed at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of death,

Into the mouth of hell

Rode the six hundred.

4. Flashed all their sabers bâre,
Flashed as they turned in âir,
Sabring the gunners thêre,
Charging an army, while

All the world wondered :

Plunged in the battery smoke,
Right through the line they broke ;

Cossack and Russian

Reeled from the saber-stroke,

Shattered and sundered

Then they rode back-but not,

Not the six hundred.

5. Cannon to right of them,

Cannon to left of them,

Cannon behind them

Volleyed and thundered;
Stormed at with shot and shell,

While horse and hero fell,

They that had fought so well

Came through the jaws of death,
Back from the mouth of hell,

All that was left of them,

Left of six hundred.

6. When can their glory fade?
Oh, the wild charge they made!
All the world wondered.
Honor the charge they made!
Honor the Light Brigade,

Noble six hundred!

ALFRED TENNYSON.'

III.

97. THE TWO SPIRITS.

LA

AST night when weary silence fell on all,
And starless skies arose so dim and våst,

I heard the Spirit of the Present call

Upon the sleeping Spirit of the Påst.
Far off and near, I saw their radiance shine,
And listened while they spoke of deeds divine.

THE SPIRIT OF THE PAST.

2. My deeds are writ in vain;
My glōry stands alone;
A veil of shadowy honor
Upon my tomb is thrown ;
The great names of my heroes
Like gems in history lie;
To live they deemed ignoble,
Had they the chance to die!

THE SPIRIT OF THE PRESENT.

3. My children, too, are honored;
Dear shall their memory be

To the proud land that owns them;
Dearer than thine to thee;

1 Alfred Tennyson, poet-laureate of England, born in Lincolnshire in 1812.

For, though they hold that sacred
Is God's great gift of life,
At the first call of duty
They rush into the strife!

THE SPIRIT OF THE PAST.

4. Then with all the valiant precepts Woman's soft heart was fraught; "Death, not dishonor," echoed The war-cry she had taught. Fearless and glad, those mothers, At bloody deaths elate,

Cried out, they bore their children
Only for such a fate!

THE SPIRIT OF THE PRESENT. 5. Though such stern laws of honor Are faded now away,

Yet many a mourning mother,
With nobler grief than they,
Bows down in sad submission:
The heroes of the fight

Learnt at her knee the lesson,
"For God and for the Right!"

THE SPIRIT OF THE PAST.
6. Then each one strove for honor,
Each for a deathless name;
Love, home, rest, joy, were offered
As sacrifice to fame.

They longed that in far ages

Their deeds might still be told,
And distant times and nations

Their names in honor hold.

THE SPIRIT OF THE PRESENT. 7. Though nûrsed by such old legends, Our heroes of to-day,

Go cheerfully to battle,

As children go to play;

They gaze with awe and wonder

On your great names of pride,
Unconscious that their own will shine
In glōry side by side.

8. Day dawned; and as the Spirits passed away,
I thought I saw, in the dim morning gray,
The Past's bright diadem had paled befōre
The starry crown the glorious Present wōre.

IV.

98. THE GOLDEN YEAR.

E sleep, and wake, and sleep, but all things move;
The Sun flies forward to his brother Sun;

The dark Earth follows, wheeled in her ellipse:
And human things returning on themselves
Move onward, leading up the gōlden year.

2. Ah, though the times when some new thought can bud
Are but as poets' seasons when they flower,
Yet seas that daily gain upon the shōre
Have ebb and flow conditioning their march,
And slow and sure comes up the golden year.

3. When wealth no mōre shall rest in mounded heaps,
But smit with freer light shall slowly melt

In many streams to fatten lower lands,
And light shall spread, and man be liker man
Through all the seasons of the golden year.

4. Shall eagles not be eagles? wrens be wrens?
If all the world were faleons, what of that?
The wonder of the eagle were the less,
But he not less the eagle. Happy days
Roll onward, leading up the golden year.

5. Fly, happy, happy sails, and bear the Press;
Fly happy with the mission of the Cross;
Knit land to land, and blowing havenward,
With silks, and fruits, and spices, clear of tōll,
Enrich the markets of the golden year.