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When Kempenfelt went down,
With twice four hundred men.

Weigh the vessel up,

Once dreaded by our foes!
And mingle with our cup2

The tear that England owes.

Her timbers yet are sound,

And she may float again,

Full charged with England's thunder,
And plough the distant main.3

But Kempenfelt

is gòne,

His victories are o'er;

And he and his eight hundred

Shall plough the wave nō mōre.

CAUTIONS: a. The first line has only two accents-one on toll, and the other on brave; the others have three accents, but the long pause after toll makes up for the want of the third accent. Read for-the-brave. b. The greatest care must be taken not to let the accent strike are. The words that-are must be slurred over as quickly as possible. c. Take care not to let the accent touch the of. d. Done must have a firm but quiet emphasis and cessation of the voice. e. This line also has only two accents. It was nót | in the battle; and great care must be taken to avoid the mechanical verse-accents on was and in. MEANINGS 1. Shrouds, ladder-ropes. 2. Mingle with our cup. That is, when we are drinking wine, let us give a tear of recollection to those brave men and to that gallant ship. 3. Main, a poetical word for sea.

TO A BEE.

THOU wert out betimes,1 thou busy, busy bee
When abroad I took my early way,
Before the cow from her resting-place

Had risen up, and left her trace2

On the meadow with dew so gray,

I saw thee, thou busy, busy bee!

b

Thou wert alive, thou busy, busy bee!

When the crowd in their sleep were dead;

Thou wert abroad in the freshest hour,

When the sweetest odour3 comes from the flower

Man will not learn to leave his bed,

And be wise and copy thee, thou busy, busy bee!

SOUTHEY.

CAUTIONS: a. The only direction to be given in reading this poem is to attend most to the sense, and not to the verse. b. Avoid the verse-accent on wert, and hurry on to alive, which is the emphatic word.

MEANINGS: 1. Betimes, early. 2. Trace, footmark. 3. Odour, scent.

THE GRASS.

TO THE RAIN IN SUMMER.

107

This is a poem which is most exquisite in rhythm and feeling, and which lends itself with ease to good reading. It ought to be read with great slowness and distinctness. The feeling is that of intense longing for the freshness of the rain -of intense languor amid the parching heat.

O GENTLE, gentle summer rain,
Let not the silver lily pine,
The drooping lily pine in vain

To feel that dewy touch of thine,—
To drink thy freshness once again,
O gentle, gentle summer rain!

In heat the landscape quivering lies;
The cattle pant beneath the tree;
Through parching air and purple skies
The earth looks up in vain for thee;
For thee-for thee it looks in vain,
O gentle, gentle summer rain!

Come thou and brim1 the meadow streams,
And soften all the hills with mist,

O falling dew! from burning dreams

By thee shall herb and flower be kissed;
And earth shall bless thee yet again,

O gentle, gentle summer rain!-DR. BENNETT.

CAUTIONS: There is not a line in this poem which presents the smallest difficulty: the style is so clear, pure, and direct. If the right feeling is present in the reader, the lines cannot be read with too great slowness. MEANINGS: 1. Brim, fill up to the top of the banks.

THE GRASS.

This poem, like the one which precedes it, is one that can be well read without difficulty. The notion of the tranquil and persistent spreading of the grass everywhere is well rendered both in the words and in the rhythm.

HERE I come creeping, creeping everywhere
By the dusty roadside,

On the sunny hillside,
Close by the noisy brook,

In every shady nook,

I come creeping, creeping everywhere.

Here I come

creeping, smiling everywhere;

All round the open door,

Where sit the aged poor;

Here, where the children play,
In the bright and merry May,
I come creeping, creeping everywhere.

Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere;
In the noisy city street

My pleasant face you'll meet,
Cheering the sick at heart'
Toiling his busy part1-

Silently creeping, creeping everywhere.

Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere,
You cannot see me coming,

Nor hear my low sweet humming;
For in the starry night,

And the glad morning light,

I come quietly creeping everywhere.

Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere;

More welcome

than the flowers

In summer's pleasant hours;

The gentle cow is glad,

And the merry bird not sad,

To see me creeping, creeping everywhere.

Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere.
When you're numbered with the dead
In your still and narrow bed,

In the happy spring I'll come
And deck your silent home-

Creeping, silently creeping everywhere.

Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere;
My humble song of praise

Most joyfully I raise

To Him at whose command

I beautify the land,

Creeping, silently creeping everywhere.

CAUTIONS: a. The words Here I come must be read with great slowness, and not at the usual speaking rate. b. There should be no pause at the end of this line; the meaning being-cheering the man, sick at heart, who is toiling in his own busy sphere.

MEANING: 1. Toiling his busy part, doing his daily work.'

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Llewellyn, a Welsh prince, goes out to hunt one morning. He misses his favourite hound Gelert; and the sport is poor. On his return, he cannot find his little boy, and fears that the dog has killed him. He stabs Gelert, and -when too late-discovers that Gelert has really saved the life of his son.

THE spearman heard the bugle sound,
And gaily smiled the morn,

And many a brach,1 and many a hound,
Attend Llewellyn's horn.

And still he blew a louder blast,
And gave a louder cheer;

"Come, Gelert, why art thou the last
Llewellyn's horn to hear?

a

"Where does my faithful Gelert roam??
The flower of all his race;

So true, so brave; a lamb at home,
A lion in the chase.",

'Twas only at Llewellyn's board3

The faithful Gelert fed;

He watched, he served, he cheered his lord,
And sentinelled his bed.

In sooth he was a peerless1 hound,

The gift of royal John":

But now

no Gelert could be found,

And all the chase rode on.

And now as over rocks and dells
The huntsmen's cheerings rise,
All Snowdon's craggy chaos yells
With many mingled cries.

b

That day Llewellyn little loved

The chase of hart? or hare,

8

And scant and small the booty proved,
For Gelert
was not there.

Unpleased, Llewellyn homeward hied";
When near the portal seat,10
His truant Gelert he espied,"
Bounding his lord to greet.12

But when he gained his castle door
Aghast 13 the chieftain stood;

The hound was smeared with drops of gore, 1

11

His lips and fangs 15 ran

blood!

Llewellyn gazed with wild surprise,
Unused such looks to meet;
His favourite checked his joyful guise,1
And crouched and licked his feet.

Onward in haste Llewellyn passed,
And on went Gelert too;

And still where'er his eyes he cast

16

Fresh blood-drops shocked his view!

O'erturned his infant's bed he found,
The blood-stained cover rent;17
And all around the walls and ground
With recent blood besprent.18

He called his child; no voice replied-
He searched with terror wild;"
Blood! blood! he found on every side,
But nowhere found his child!

"Hell-hound! by thee my child's devoured! The frantic19 father cried;

And to the hilt his vengeful20 sword
He plunged in Gelert's side.

His suppliant21 look, as prone22 he fell,
No pity could impart,2

Yet mournfully his dying yell
Sank in Llewellyn's heart.

Aroused24 by Gelert's dying yell,
Some slumberer wakened nigh-
What words the parent's joy can tell
To hear25 his infant's cry?

Concealed 26 amidst a mingled heap27
His hurried search had missed,
All glowing28 from his rosy sleep,29
His cherub30 boy he kissed.

No wound had he nor harm nor dread,31
But, the same couch beneath,

Lay a great wolf all torn and dead,-
Tremendous32 still in death.

Ah! what was then Llewellyn's pain?
For now the truth was clear;
The gallant hound the wolf had slain,
And saved Llewellyn's heir.

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