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Heaven help us! 'twas a thing beyond
Description wretched: such a wherry
Perhaps ne'er ventur'd on a pond,
Or cross'd a ferry.

For ploughing in the salt sea-field,
It would have made the boldest shudder;
Untarr'd, uncompass'd, and unkeel'd,
No sail-no rudder.

From neighbouring woods he interlaced
His sorry skiff with wattled willows;
And thus equipp'd he would have pass'd
The foaming billows-

But Frenchmen caught him on the beach,
His little Argo sorely jeering;
Till tidings of him chanced to reach
Napoleon's hearing.

With folded arms Napoleon stood,
Serene alike in peace and danger;
And in his wonted attitude,

Address'd the stranger :

'Rash man that wouldst yon channel pass On twigs and staves so rudely fashion'd; Thy heart with some sweet British lass Must be impassion'd.'

'I have no sweetheart,' said the lad; 'But-absent long from one another— Great was the longing that I had

To see my mother!'

'And so thou shalt,' Napoleon said,
'Ye've both my favour fairly won;
A noble mother must have bred

So brave a son.

He gave the tar a piece of gold,

And with a flag of truce commanded
He should be shipp'd to England Old,
And safely landed.

Our sailor oft could scantly shift
To find a dinner plain and hearty;
But never changed the coin and gift
Of Bonaparte.

THE PARROT

A PARROT, from the Spanish main,

Full young

and early caged came o'er, With bright wings, to the bleak domain Of Mullah's shore.

To spicy groves where he had won

His plumage of resplendent hue,
His native fruits, and skies, and sun,
He bade adieu.

For these he changed the smoke of turf,
A heathery land and misty sky,
And turned on rocks and raging surf
His golden eye.

But petted in our climate cold,

He lived and chattered many a day :
Until with age, from green and gold
His wings grew grey.

At last when blind, and seeming dumb,
He scolded, laugh'd, and spoke no more,

A Spanish stranger chanced to come

To Mullah's shore;

He hail'd the bird in Spanish speech,
The bird in Spanish speech replied;
Flapp'd round the cage with joyous screech,
Dropt down, and died.

HOHENLINDEN

ON Linden when the sun was low,
All bloodless lay the untrodden snow;
And dark as winter was the flow
Of Iser rolling rapidly.

But Linden saw another sight
When the drum beat at dead of night,
Commanding fires of death to light
The darkness of her scenery.

By torch and trumpet fast arrayed,
Each horseman drew his battle blade,
And furious every charger neighed
To join the dreadful revelry.

Then shook the hill, with thunder riven;
Then rushed the steed, to battle driven;
And louder than the bolts of Heaven
Far flashed the red artillery.

But redder yet that light shall glow
On Linden's hills of stainèd snow,
And bloodier yet the torrent flow
Of Iser rolling rapidly.

'Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun
Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun,
Where furious Frank and fiery Hun

Shout in their sulph'rous canopy.
The combat deepens. On, ye brave,
Who rush to glory or the grave!
Wave, Munich, all thy banners wave,
And charge with all thy chivalry.

Few, few shall part where many meet;
The snow shall be their winding-sheet;
And every turf beneath their feet

Shall be a soldier's sepulchre.

MEN OF ENGLAND

MEN of England! who inherit

Rights that cost your sires their blood Men whose undegenerate spirit

Has been proved on land and flood:

Yours are Hampden's, Russell's glory,
Sidney's matchless shade is yours,—
Martyrs in heroic story,

Worth a thousand Agincourts!

We're the sons of sires that baffled
Crown'd and mitred tyranny:
They defied the field and scaffold,
For their birthright-so will we.

WHEN THE KYE COMES HAME

JAMES HOGG

COME all ye jolly shepherds

That whistle through the glen,

I'll tell ye of a secret

That courtiers dinna ken;

What is the greatest bliss

That the tongue o' man can name?

'Tis to woo a bonny lassie

When the kye comes hame.

When the kye comes hame,
When the kye comes hame,

'Tween the gloamin' and the mirk,
When the kye comes hame.

"Tis not beneath the coronet,
Nor canopy of state,

"Tis not on couch of velvet,
Nor arbour of the great-
'Tis beneath the spreading birk,
In the glen without the name,
Wi' a bonny, bonny lassie,
When the kye comes hame.

See yonder pawky shepherd
That lingers on the hill-
His yowes are in the fauld,
And his lambs are lying still;
Yet he downa gang to bed,
For his heart is in a flame
To meet his bonny lassie

When the kye comes hame.

When the little wee bit heart
Rises high in the breast,
And the little wee bit stars
Rise bright in the east,
O there's a joy sae dear,

That the heart can hardly frame,

Wi' a bonny, bonny lassie,

When the kye comes hame.

Then since all nature joins
In this love without alloy,
O' wha wad
prove a traitor
To nature's dearest joy?
Or wha wad choose a crown,
Wi' its pearls and its fame,
And miss his bonny lassie
When the kye comes hame?
When the kye comes hame,
When the kye comes hame,

'Tween the gloamin' and the mirk,
When the kye comes hame.

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