Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere, Heaven did a recompense as largely send: He gained from heaven-'twas all he wished—a friend. No further seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode; The bosom of his Father and his God. 23.-THE DYING GLADIATOR. LORD BYRON. [See page 205.] THE seal is set.-Now welcome, thou dread power! And here the buzz of eager nations ran In murmur'd pity, or loud roar'd applause, As man was slaughter'd by his fellow man. And wherefore slaughter'd? wherefore, but because Such were the bloody circus' genial laws, And the imperial pleasure-Wherefore not? What matters where we fall to fill the maws Of worms-on battle plains or listed spot? Both are but theatres where chief actors rot. I see before me the Gladiator lie: He leans upon his hand-his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony; And his droop'd head sinks gradually low; Like the first of a thunder shower; and now Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hail'd the wretch who won He heard it, but he heeded not-his eyes Were with his heart, and that was far away; He reck'd not of the life he lost, nor prize, There were his young barbarians all at play; All this rush'd with his blood.-Shall he expire, It was the time when lilies blow, "He does not love me for my birth, In there came old Alice, the nurse, Said, "Who was this that went from thee ?" "It was my cousin," said Lady Clare, "To-morrow he weds with me." "Oh! God be thanked!" said Alice, the nurse, "That all comes round so just and fair: Lord Ronald is heir of all your lands, And you are not the Lady Clare." "Are ye out of your mind, my nurse, my nurse ?" "The old Earl's daughter died at my breast- "Falsely, falsely have you done, Oh! mother," she said, "if this be true, To keep the best man under the sun "Nay, now, my child," said Alice, the nurse, "But keep the secret for your life, And all you have will be Lord Ronald's, When you are man and wife." "If I'm a beggar born," she said, "I will speak out, for I dare not lie; Pull off, pull off, the brooch of gold, And fling the diamond necklace by." "Nay, now, my child," said Alice, the nurse, "But keep the secret all ye can.” She said, "Not so: but I will know If there be any faith in man." "Nay, now, what faith?" said Alice, the nurse, 66 The man will cleave unto his right." "And he shall have it," the lady replied, “Though I should die to-night." "Yet give one kiss to your mother dear! Alas! my child, I sinned for thee." "Oh! mother, mother, mother," she said, "So strange it seems to me. 66 "Yet here's a kiss for my mother dear, She clad herself in a russet gown, The lily-white doe Lord Ronald had brought Dropt her head in the maiden's hand, Down stept Lord Ronald from his tower: Why come you drest like a village maid, "If I come drest like a village maid, I am but as my fortunes are: I am a beggar born," she said, And not the Lady Clare." "Play me no tricks," said Lord Ronald, "For I am yours in word and deed. Play me no tricks," said Lord Ronald, "Your riddle is hard to read." Oh! and proudly stood she up! Her heart within her did not fail! She looked into Lord Ronald's eyes, And told him all her nurse's tale. He laughed a laugh of merry scorn; 66 He turned and kissed her where she stood: And I," said he, the next in blood "If you are not the heiress born, (By permission of Messrs. Moxon & Co.) 25.-THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS. H. W. LONGFELLOW. [See page 173.] It was the schooner Hesperus And the skipper had taken his little daughter Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax, Her cheeks like the dawn of day, And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds, The skipper he stood beside the helm, His pipe was in his mouth, And he watched how the veering flaw did blow, Then up and spake an old sailor 66 I "Last night the moon had a golden ring, Colder and louder blew the wind, Down came the storm, and smote amain She shuddered and paused like a frightened steed, "Come hither-come hither, my little daughter, And do not tremble so; For I can weather the roughest gale He wrapped her in his seaman's coat, He cut a rope from a broken spar, "Oh! father! I hear the church-bells ring- ""Tis a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!" And he steered for the open sea. "Oh! father! I hear the sound of guns; Oh! say, what may it be?" "Some ship in distress, that cannot live In such an angry sea!" "Oh! father! I see a gleaming light; But the father answered never a word- Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark, The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow Then the maiden clasped her hands, and prayed That saved she might be; And she thought of Christ who stilled the wave And fast through the midnight dark and drear, And ever the fitful gust between It was the sound of the trampling surf The breakers were right beneath her bows: And a whooping billow swept the crew |