Grappling, clinging to their hold or

Letting go,

As the weaker gasped and fell
From the ladder to the well,-
To the poisoned pit of hell
Down below!

"To the man who sets them free," Cried the foreman, Harry Lee,

Harry Lee, the English foreman of the mine,

66

'Brings them out and sets them free, I will give that man," said he,

"Twice that sum, who with a rope Face to face with death shall cope: Let him come who dares to hope! "Hold your peace!" some one replied, Standing by the foreman's side; "There has one already gone, whoe'er he be!"

Then they held their breath with awe,
Pulling on the rope, and saw

Fainting figures reappear,

On the black rope swinging clear,

Fastened by some skilful hand from below;

Till a score the level gained,

And but one alone remained,

He the hero and the last,

He whose skilful hand made fast

36

47

The long line that brought them back to hope

and cheer!

57

Haggard, gasping, down dropped he
At the feet of Harry Lee,-

Harry Lee, the English foreman of the mine.
"I have come," he gasped, "to claim

Both rewards, Señor,-my name

Is Ramon!

I'm the drunken engineer,

I'm the coward, Señor-" Here
He fell over, by that sign

67

Dead as stone!

Francis Bret Harte.

1871.

THE SONG OF THE CAMP

GIVE us a song!" the soldiers cried,

The outer trenches guarding,

When the heated guns of the camps allied

Grew weary of bombarding.

4

The dark Redan, in silent scoff,

Lay grim and threatening under;

And the tawny mound of the Malakoff
No longer belched its thunder.

8

There was a pause. A guardsman said:
"We storm the forts to-morrow;

Sing while we may, another day
Will bring enough of sorrow."

12

They lay along the battery's side,

Below the smoking cannon:

Brave hearts from Severn and from Clyde, And from the banks of Shannon.

16

They sang of love, and not of fame;

Forgot was Britain's glory:

Each heart recalled a different name,
But all sang "Annie Laurie."

Voice after voice caught up the song,
Until its tender passion

Rose like an anthem, rich and strong,-
Their battle-eve confession.

Dear girl, her name he dared not speak,
But as the song grew louder,
Something upon the soldier's cheek
Washed off the stains of powder.

Beyond the darkening ocean burned
The bloody sunset's embers,
While the Crimean valleys learned
How English love remembers.

And once again a fire of hell

Rained on the Russian quarters,
With scream of shot, and burst of shell,
And bellowing of the mortars!

And Irish Nora's eyes are dim
For a singer dumb and gory;

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24

28

32

36

1851.

And English Mary mourns for him
Who sang of "Annie Laurie."

Sleep, soldiers! still in honored rest
Your truth and valor wearing:
The bravest are the tenderest,-
The loving are the daring.

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44

Bayard Taylor.

THE PATRIOT

AN OLD STORY

Ir was roses, roses, all the way,

With myrtle mixed in my path like mad: The house-roofs seemed to heave and sway, The church-spires flamed, such flags they had, A year ago on this very day.

The air broke into a mist with bells,

The old walls rocked with the crowd and

cries.

Had I said, "Good folk, mere noise repelsBut give me your sun from yonder skies!" They had answered, "And afterward, what else?"

Alack, it was I who leaped at the sun
To give it my loving friends to keep!

10

5

Naught man could do, have I left undone :
And you see my harvest, what I reap
This very day, now a year is run.

There's nobody on the house-tops now-
Just a palsied few at the windows set;
For the best of the sight is, all allow,

At the Shambles' Gate-or, better yet,
By the very scaffold's foot, I trow.

I go in the rain, and, more than needs,
A rope cuts both my wrists behind;

And I think, by the feel, my forehead bleeds,
For they fling, whoever has a mind,

Stones at me for my year's misdeeds.

Thus I entered, and thus I go!

15

20

25

In triumphs, people have dropped down dead. "Paid by the world, what dost thou owe Me?"- God might question; now instead, 'T is God shall repay: I am safer so.

30

1855.

Robert Browning.

THE FORSAKEN MERMAN

COME, dear children, let us away;

Down and away below!

Now my brothers call from the bay,

Now the great winds shoreward blow,
Now the salt tides seaward flow;