And heroes still, they strive

Against the dangerous Dane,

When France stirred up the northern hive,
To sting us on the main:

то

All heroes, heroes still,
For Lusitania's right;

Be red Roleia's hard-fought hill,
And Vimiera's fight:

And stout the heroes stood

On Talavera's day;

And wrote their conquering names in blood At Salamanca's fray;

PAIN.

DELAY not, sinner, till the hour of pain
To seek repentance; pain is absolute,
Exacting all the body and the brain,

Humanity's stern king from head to foot:

How canst thou pray, while fevered arrows shoot
Througn this torn targe, while every bone doth ache,
And the scared mind raves up and down her cell
Restless, and begging rest for mercy's sake?

Add not to death the bitter fears of hell;
Take pity on thy future self, poor man,

While yet in strength thy timely wisdom can, -
Wrestle to-day with sin; and spare that strife
Of meeting terrors in the van,
Just at the ebbing agony of life.

THREE VERSIONS OF ADRIAN'S APOSTROPHE.

ANIMULA, vagula, blandule,
Hospes, comesque, corporis,
Quæ nunc abibis in loca?
Pallidula, rigidi, nudula,
Nec, ut soles, dabis jocos?

1.

Pleasant little fluttering sprite,
Long my bosom's merry guest,
Whither now to wing thy flight?
Ah! thou frozen little wight,
Pale, and naked, and unblest,
Never more a jibe or jest?

LI.

Soft little butterfly-guest of my heart, Whither now flittest thou, spirit of mine? Woe,- for thy merriment must it depart Naked and frigid and pallid to pine?