A

Scheveningen.

THE VILLAGE OF SCHEVENINGEN.

STARTLING sound by night was heard,

From the Scheveningen coast;

Like vultures in their clamorous flight,
Or the trampling of a host.

It broke the sleepers' heavy rest,
With harsh and threatening cry;
Storm was upon the lonely sea!
Storm on the midnight sky!

The slumberers started up from sleep,
Like spectres from their graves;

Then burst a hundred voices forth:

"The waves! - the waves! -- the waves!

The strong-built dikes lay overthrown :

And on their deadly way,
Like lions, came the mighty seas,

Impatient for their prey!

Like lions came the mighty seas,
O, vision of despair! -

Mid ruins of their falling homes,
The blackness of the air.

Jesu! it was a fearful hour!
The elemental strife,

Howling above the shrieks of death, -
The struggling groans for life!

Fathers beheld the hastening doom
With stern, delirious eye;

Wildly they looked around for help, -
No help, alas! was nigh.

Mothers stood trembling with their babes,
Uttering complaints, in vain;

No arm but the Almighty arm
Might stem that dreadful main!

No mercy, no relapse, no hope, -
That night the tempest-tost
Saw their paternal homes engulfed, –
Lost! O, forever lost!

Again the blessed morning light

In the far heavens shone;
But where the pleasant village stood,

Swept the dark floods alone!

Charles Swain.

Zutphen.

SIR PHILIP SIDNEY.

THE height of Sidney's deed upon this field
Rises so high that all the world can see;

Self-abnegating grace has here revealed
How godlike in his suffering man may be.

What blessed immortality he quaffed,

When, all his parching agonies denied,

From his own lips he sent the untouched draught To him who likewise languished at his side!

Arcadia's beauty still is fresh to-day,

And knightly fame that charmed the Virgin Queen,
But Zutphen lifts him higher still than they,
And gives his memory the brightest green!

Charlotte F. Bates.

THE END.

Cambridge: Electrotyped and Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co.