When Kempenfelt went down, Weigh the vessel up, Once dreaded by our foes! The tear that England owes. Her timbers yet are sound, And she may float again, Full charged with England's thunder, 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 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, To feel that dewy touch of thine,— In heat the landscape quivering lies; Come thou and brim1 the meadow streams, O falling dew! from burning dreams By thee shall herb and flower be kissed; 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 On the sunny hillside, 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, Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere; My pleasant face you'll meet, Silently creeping, creeping everywhere. Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere, Nor hear my low sweet humming; 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. In the happy spring I'll come Creeping, silently creeping everywhere. Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere; 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.' 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 many a brach,1 and many a hound, And still he blew a louder blast, "Come, Gelert, why art thou the last a "Where does my faithful Gelert roam?? So true, so brave; a lamb at home, 'Twas only at Llewellyn's board3 The faithful Gelert fed; He watched, he served, he cheered his lord, 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 b That day Llewellyn little loved The chase of hart? or hare, 8 And scant and small the booty proved, Unpleased, Llewellyn homeward hied"; But when he gained his castle door The hound was smeared with drops of gore, 1 11 His lips and fangs 15 ran blood! Llewellyn gazed with wild surprise, Onward in haste Llewellyn passed, And still where'er his eyes he cast 16 Fresh blood-drops shocked his view! O'erturned his infant's bed he found, He called his child; no voice replied- "Hell-hound! by thee my child's devoured! The frantic19 father cried; And to the hilt his vengeful20 sword His suppliant21 look, as prone22 he fell, Yet mournfully his dying yell Aroused24 by Gelert's dying yell, Concealed 26 amidst a mingled heap27 No wound had he nor harm nor dread,31 Lay a great wolf all torn and dead,- Ah! what was then Llewellyn's pain? |