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“ And what did you see, my Mary,
All up on the Caldon-Low ?" “I saw the blithe sunshine come down,
And I saw the merry winds blow.” “And what did you hear, my Mary,
All up on the Caldon Hill ?” “I heard the drops of the water made,
And the green corn ears to fill." "“ Oh, tell me all, my Mary-
All, all that ever you know;
Last night on the Caldon-Low.”
And listen, mother of mine :
And the harpers they were nine. “And merry was the glee of the harp-strings,
And their dancing feet so small; But, oh, the sound of their talking
Was merrier far than all !”. “And what were the words, my Mary,
That you did hear them say ?” “ I'll tell you all, my mother
But let me have my way! “And some they played with the water,
And rolled it down the hill ; • And this,' they said, shall speedily turn
The poor old miller's mill;
“For there has been no water
Ever since the first of May;
By the dawning of the day!
« « Oh, the miller, how he will laugh,
When he sees the mill-dam rise !
Till the tears fill both his eyes!'
That sounded over the hill,
And blew so sharp and shrill :“« And there,' said they, “the merry winds go,.
Away from every horn;
From the blind old widow's corn : "Oh, the poor, blind old widow
Though she has been blind so long, She'll be merry enough when the mildew's gone,
And the corn stands stiff and strong!' “ And some they brought the brown lintseed,
And flung it down from the LowAnd this,' said they, ‘by the sunrise,
In the weaver's croft shall grow! “«Oh, the poor, lame weaver,
How he will laugh outright,
All full of flowers by night!' “ And then upspoke a brownie,
With a long beard on his chin'I have spun up all the tow,' said he,
And I want some more to spin.
“ I've spun a piece of hempen cloth,
And I want to spin anotherA little sheet for Mary's bed.
And an apron for her mother !'
“And with that I could not help but laugh,
And I laughed out loud and free; And then on the top of the Caldon-Low
There was no one left but me.
“And all, on the top of the Caldon-Low,
The mists were cold and gray,
That round about me lay.
“But, as I came down from the hill-top,
I heard, afar below,
And how merry the wheel did go!
And, sure enough, was seen
All standing stiff and green.
“And down by the weaver's croft I stole,
To see if the flax were high; But I saw the weaver at his gate
With the good news in his eye!
“Now, this is all I heard, mother,
And all that I did see ;
For I'm tired as I can be !"
THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB.—
Byron. The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset were seen : Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.
For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,
And there lay the rider distorted and pale,
And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,
THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE.—Wolfe.
Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note,
As his corpse to the ramparts we hurried ; . Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot
O’er the grave where our hero we buried.
We buried him darkly at dead of night,
The sods with our bayonets turning,
And the lantern dimly burning.
No useless coffin enclosed his breast,
Nor in sheet nor in shroud we wound him; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest,
With his martial cloak around him.
And we spoke not a word of sorrow;
And we bitterly thought of the morrow.
And smoothed down his lonely pillow,
And we far away on the billow !
And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him,-
In the grave where a Briton has laid him. But half of our heavy task was done,
When the clock struck the hour for retiring ; And we heard the distant and random gun
That the foe was sullenly firing. Slowly and sadly we laid him down,
From the field of his fame fresh and gory ; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone
But we left him alone with his glory!