And what shoulder and what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?

In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dares its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?

Did He who made the lamb make thee?

Tiger, tiger, burning bright

In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye

Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

SONG OF THE WESTERN MEN

A GOOD Sword and a trusty hand!
A merry heart and true!

King James's men shall understand
What Cornish lads can do.

And have they fixed the where and when?
And shall Trelawney die?
Here's twenty thousand Cornish men
Will know the reason why!

Out spake their captain brave and bold,
A merry wight was he;

"If London Tower were Michael's hold,
We'll set Trelawney free!

"We'll cross the Tamar land to land,

The Severn is no stay,

With one and all and hand in hand,
And who shall bid us nay?

"And when we come to London Wall,

A pleasant sight to view;

Come forth, come forth, ye cowards all,
Here's men as good as you."

Trelawney, he's in keep and hold,

Trelawney, he may die;

But here's twenty thousand Cornish bold

Will know the reason why.

ROBERT STEPHEN HAWKER.

LULLABY OF AN INFANT CHIEF

"Он, hush thee, my babie, thy sire was a knight,

Thy mother a lady both lovely and bright; The woods and the glens, from the towers which we see, They all are belonging, dear babie, to thee.

"Oh, fear not the bugle, though loudly it blows, It calls but the warders that guard thy repose;

Their bows would be bended, their blades would be red,

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Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed.

Oh, hush thee, my babie, the time will soon come, When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet and drum; Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while you may, For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day!" SIR WALTER SCOTT.

THE BONNIE BANKS O' FORDIE

THERE were three ladies lived in a bower,
Oh, how bonnie!

And they went out to pull a flower
On the bonnie banks o' Fordie.

They had not pulled a flower but one,
When up started to them a banished man.

He's taken the first sister by her hand,

And he's turned her round and made her stand.

"Now will ye be a rank robber's wife, Or will ye die by my wee penknife?"

"Oh, I'll not be a rank robber's wife,
I'll rather die by your wee penknife."

He's killed this maiden and laid her by,
For to bear the red rose company.

He's taken the second one by the hand,
And he's turned her round and made her stand.

"Now will ye be a rank robber's wife,

Or will ye die by my wee penknife ?"

"Oh, I'll not be a rank robber's wife,
I'll rather die by your wee penknife."

He's killed this maiden and laid her by
For to bear the red rose company.

He's taken the youngest one by the hand,
And he's turned her round and made her stand

Says: "Will ye be a rank robber's wife,
Or will ye die by my wee penknife?"

"Oh, I'll not be a rank robber's wife,
Nor will I die by your wee penknife.

"For I have a brother in this wood,

And if you kill me, why he'll kill thee.”

"What's your brother's name? Come tell to me." "My brother's name is Babylon."

"O sister, sister, what have I done! Oh, have I done this ill to thee!"

OLD BALLAD.