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One, who strove darkly sorrow's sob to stay, ..
It was a summer evening,
Old Kaspar's work was done,
She saw her brother Peterkin
Roll something large and round,
In playing there had found;
Old Kaspar took it from the boy,
And then the old man shook his head,
And with a natural sigh“ 'Tis some poor fellow's skull," said he, “Who fell in the great victory.
I find them in the garden,
For there's many here about ; And often, when I go to plough,
The ploughshare turns them out : For many a thousand men,” said he, "Were slain in that great victory.” —
“Now tell us what 'twas all about,”
Young Peterkin he cries ; And little Wilhelmine looks up
With wonder-waiting eyes : “Now tell us all about the war, And what they fought each other for.”
“It was the English,” Kaspar cried,
“Who put the French to rout; But what they killed each other for,
I could not well make out: But everybody said," quoth he, “ That 'twas a famous victory.
My father lived at Blenheim then,
Yon little stream hard by.
And he was forced to fly :
With fire and sword the country round
Was wasted far and wide,
And new-born baby died :
They say it was a shocking sight
After the field was won ;
Lay rotting in the sun :
Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won,
And our good Prince Eugene.”— “Why, 'twas a very wicked thing !”
Said little Wilhelmine. “Nay, nay, my little girl," quoth he, “It was a famous victory; And everybody praised the Duke,
Who such a fight did win.”— “But what good came of it at last?”
Quoth little Peterkin.“Why, that I cannot tell,” said he, “But 'twas a famous victory.”
NAPOLEON AND THE SAILOR.
NAPOLEON's banners at Boulogne
Armed in our island every freeman ; His navy chanced to capture one
Poor British seaman.
They suffered him I know not how
Unprisoned on the shore to roam ; And aye was bent his longing brow
On England's home.
His eye, methinks, pursued the flight
Of birds to Britain half way over,
Dear cliffs of Dover.
Than this sojourn would have been dearer, If but the storm his vessel brought
To England nearer.
At last, when care had banished sleep,
He saw one morning-dreaming-doating, An empty hogshead from the deep
Come shoreward floating.
He hid it in a cave, and wrought
The livelong day laborious; lurking Until he launched a tiny boat
By mighty working.
Heaven help us ! 'twas a thing beyond
Description wretched : such a wherry
Or crossed a ferry.
It would have made the boldest shudder ; Untarred, uncompassed, and unkeeled,
No sail-no rudder !
From neighbouring woods he interlaced
His sorry skiff with wattled willows; And thus equipped he would have passed
The foaming billows
But Frenchmen caught him on the beach,
His little Argo sorely jeering;
With folded arms Napoleon stood,
Serene alike in peace and danger, And in his wonted attitude
Addressed the stranger :
“Rasb man, that wouldst yon Channel pass
On twigs and staves so rudely fashioned ! Thy heart with some sweet British lass Must be impassioned.”—
“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
And safely landed.
To find a dinner plain and hearty ;
THERE is a flower, a little flower,
With silver crest and golden eye, That welcomes every changing hour,
And weathers every sky.
The prouder beauties of the field
In gay but quick succession shine; Race after race their honours yield, —
They flourish and decline.
But this small flower, to Nature dear,
While moon and stars their courses run, Wreathes the whole circle of the year,
Companion of the sun.
To sultry August spreads its charms;
And twines December's arms.