Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white,

And "Gallop," gasped Joris, "for Aix is in sight."

And with circles of red for his eye-socket's rim.

Then I cast loose my buff-coat, each holster let fall,

"How they'll greet us!" and all in a moment Shook off my jack-boots, let go belt and all, his roan Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear,

Of the news which alone could save Aix from Till at length into Aix Roland galloped and her fate,

With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the

brim,

stood.

And all I remember is friends flocking round,

As I sate with his head 'twixt my knees on the Which, the burgesses voted by common con ground; sent,

And no voice but was praising this Roland of Was no more than his due who brought good mine,

As I poured down his throat our last measure

of wine,

news from Ghent.

ROBERT BROWNING.

Then I cast loose my briff cout, each holster let full, shook off both my jack boots, it go belt and all, stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his car, Roland his pet name,

Called

nay

y horse without fear, hands, Inuighed and sany, any noise, bad or good. sill at length into wix Roland galloped and slood.

Cupped

my

and all I remember is, prend thecking round

As I sate with his head twith my knees on the ground, And no voice but was pressing this Roland of mine. as I poured down his throat our last measure of

which ( The burgesses voted by common consent ) hobos no more than his due who brought good news from Ghent Robert Browning

I humbly thank his grace; and from these Macb. Methought, I heard a voice cry, Sleep shoulders,

THE SHIPWRECK.

(From Don Juan," Canto II.)

THE

THEN rose from sea to sky the wild fare- And strives to strangle him before he die. well

Then shriek'd the timid, and stood still the brave,Then some leap'd overboard with dreadful yell,

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

"And the sea yawn'd around her like a hell,
And down she suck'd with her the whirling wave."

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,

0

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.
GEORGE GORDON, LORD BYRON.

THE DREAM OF CLIRENCE.
(From "King Richard III.," Act I., Scene 4.)

LAR. Methought, that I had broken from
the Tower,

And was embark'd to cross to Burgundy;
And in my company, my brother Gloster:

Who from my cabin tempted me to walk
Upon the hatches; thence we look'd toward
England,

And cited up a thousand heavy times,

During the wars of York and Lancaster
That had befall'n us. As we pac'd along
Upon the giddy footing of the hatches,

Clarence is come,—false, fleeting, perjur'd Clar

rence,

That stabb'd me in the field by Tewksbury ;

Methought, that Gloster stumbled; and, in Seize on him, furies, take him to your torments! falling, With that, methought, a legion of foul fiends

Struck me, that thought to stay him, over- Environ'd me, and howled in mine ears board,

Into the tumbling billows of the main.

Such hideous cries, that, with the very noise,
I trembling wak'd, and, for a season after,

O Lord! methought, what pain it was to Could not believe but that I was in hell; drown!

What dreadful noise of water in mine ears!
What sights of ugly death within mine eyes!
Methought, I saw a thousand fearful wrecks;
A thousand men, that fishes gnaw'd upon;
Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels,
All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea.

Some lay in dead men's skulls; and, in those
holes

Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept

(As 'twere in scorn of eyes) reflecting gems, That woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep, And mocked the dead bones that lay scatter'd by.

Such terrible impression made my dream.
Brak. No marvel, lord, that it affrighted

you;

I am afraid, methinks, to hear you tell it.
Clar. O, Brakenbury, I have done these
things,-

That now give evidence against my soul,-
For Edward's sake; and, see, how he requites

me:

O God! if my deep prayers cannot appease
thee,

But thou wilt be aveng'd on my misdeeds,
Yet execute thy wrath on me alone:

O, spare my guiltless wife, and my poor child

ren!

I pray thee, gentle keeper, stay by me;

Brak. Had you such leisure in the time of My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep.

death,

To gaze upon these secrets of the deep?

Clar. Methought, I had; and often did I

strive

To yield the ghost: but still the envious flood
Kept in my soul, and would not let it forth
To seek the empty, vast, and wand'ring air;
But smother'd it within my panting bulk,
Which almost burst to belch it in the sea.

Brak. Awak'd you not with this sore
agony!

Brak. I will, my lord; God give your grace good rest!

[Cla. reposes himself on a chair. Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, Makes the night morning, and the noon-tide night.

Princes have but their titles for their glories,
An outward honour for an inward toil;
And, for unfelt imaginations,

They often feel a world of restless cares:
So that between their titles, and low name,

Clar. O, no, my dream was lengthened after There's nothing differs but the outward fame.

life;

O, then began the tempest to my soul;

I pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood,
With that grim ferryman which poets write

of,

Unto the kingdom of perpetual night.

The first that there did greet my stranger soul,

Was my great father-in-law, renowned War- Or close the wall up with our English dead! wick,

Who cry'd aloud,-What scourge for perjury
Can this dark monarchy offer false Clarence?
And so he vanish'd: Then came wand'ring
by

A shadow like an angel, with bright hair
Dabbled in blood and he shriek'd
aloud,-