The monsters of the deep are made; each zone
Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.

And I have loved thee, Ocean, and my joy

Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Borne, like thy bubbles, on ward: from a boy I wantoned with the breakers - they to me Were a delight; and if the freshening sea Made them a terror, 'twas a pleasing fear;

For I was, as it were, a child of thee, And trusted to thy billows far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane

as I do here.

THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO

LORD BYRON

HERE was a sound of revelry by night

THERE

And Belgium's capital had gathered then

Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright

The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men.
A thousand hearts beat happily; and when

Music arose with its voluptuous swell,

Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again,

And all went merry as a marriage bell;

But hush! Hark! A deep sound strikes like a rising knell.

Did ye not hear it? - No; 'twas but the wind,

Or the car rattling o'er the stony street:

On with the dance! Let joy be unconfined;
No sleep till morn, when youth and pleasure meet
To chase the glowing hours with flying feet-

But, hark! That heavy sound breaks in once more,

As if the clouds its echo would repeat,

And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before!

Arm! Arm! It is it is the cannon's opening roar.

Within a windowed niche of that high wall
Sate Brunswick's fated chieftain; he did hear
That sound the first amidst the festival,

And caught its tone with Death's prophetic ear;
And when they smiled, because he deemed it near
His heart more truly knew that peal too well
Which stretched his father on a bloody bier,

And roused the vengeance blood alone could quell:
He rushed into the field, and, foremost, fighting, fell.

Ah, then and there was hurrying to and fro,
And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress,
And cheeks all pale which but an hour ago
Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness;
And there were sudden partings, such as press
The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs
Which ne'er might be repeated: who could guess
If evermore should meet those mutual eyes,
Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise!

And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed,
The mustering squadron, and the clattering car
Went pouring forward with impetuous speed,
And swiftly forming in the ranks of war;
And the deep thunder, peal on peal afar;
And near, the beat of the alarming drum
Roused up the soldier ere the morning star;

While thronged the citizens with terror dumb,

Or whispering with white lips, "The foe! They come ! They come !'

And wild and high the "Cameron's gathering " rose,
The war note of Lochiel, which Albyn's hills
Have heard, and heard, too, have her Saxon foes:
How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills
Savage and shrill! But with the breath which fills
Their mountain pipe, so fill the mountaineers
With the fierce native daring which instills
The stirring memory of a thousand years,

And Evan's, Donald's fame rings in each clansman's ears!

And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves,

Dewy with nature's tear drops, as they pass,
Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves,
Over the unreturning brave, -alas!

Ere evening to be trodden like the grass

Which now beneath them, but above shall grow

In its next verdure, when this fiery mass

Of living valor, rolling on the foe,

And burning with high hope, shall molder cold and low.

Last noon beheld them full of lusty life,

Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay,

The midnight brought the signal sound of strife,

The morn the marshaling in arms, the day

Battle's magnificently stern array!

The thunder clouds close o'er it, which when rent

The earth is covered thick with other clay,

Which her own clay shall cover, heaped and pent,

Rider and horse friend, foe - in one red burial blent!

Their praise is hymned by loftier harps than mine;
Yet one I would select from that proud throng,
Partly because they blend me with his line,
And partly that I did his sire some wrong,
And partly that bright names will hallow song!
And his was of the bravest, and when showered
The death bolts deadliest the thinned files along,
Even where the thickest of war's tempest lowered,
They reached no nobler breast than thine, young gallant
Howard.

There have been tears and breaking hearts for thee,

And mine were nothing, had I such to give;

But when I stood beneath the fresh green tree,
Which, living, waves where thou didst cease to live,
And saw around me the wide field revive

With fruits and fertile promise, and the Spring
Come forth, her work of gladness to contrive,
With all her reckless birds upon the wing,

I turned from all she brought to those she could not bring.

I turned to thee, to thousands, of whom each
And one as all a ghastly gap did make

In his own kind and kindred, whom to teach
Forgetfulness were mercy for their sake;

The Archangel's trump, not glory's, must awake

Those whom they thirst for; though the sound of Fame

May for a moment soothe, it cannot slake

The fever of vain longing, and the name

So honored but assumes a stronger, bitterer claim.

They mourn, but smile at length; and, smiling, mourn:

The tree will wither long before it fall;

The hull drives on, though mast and sail be torn;

The roof tree sinks, but molders on the hall

In massy hoariness; the ruined wall

Stands when its wind-worn battlements are gone;

The bars survive the captive they enthrall;

The day drags through, though storms keep out the sun; And thus the heart will break, and brokenly live on.

DISCOVERIES OF GALILEO

EDWARD EVERETT

Edward Everett is an example, and a remarkable one, of an almost universal culture. His literary productions consist chiefly of exceedingly elaborate speeches and addresses. He contributed a number of papers to the North American Review.

This man, distinguished as orator, scholar, and statesman, was born in Dorchester, Mass. His father was a minister at one time, having charge of the New South Church in Boston.

EVERETT

While preparing for college Everett had for his teacher Ezekiel Webster, brother of Daniel Webster, who had charge of the school for a short time, thus beginning what proved a lifelong friendship. Everett graduated from Harvard with the highest honors of his class. He studied theology and became minister of the Brattle Street Church, Boston. In 1815 he was made Professor of Greek at Harvard. In 1824 he was elected member of Congress, and continued in that service ten years. In 1835 he was elected Governor of Massachusetts. He was Minister to England under General William Henry Harrison. In 1845 he was CH. LIT. VII- - 13