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Nothiny great is lightly won, nothing won is lost;
ROB ROY'S GRAVE.
A FAMOUS man is Robin Hood,
Heaven gave Rob Roy a dauntless heart,
Or keep his friends from harm.
Yet was Rob Roy as wise as brave;
Must scorn a timid song.
Say, then, that he was wise as brave-
He sought his moral creed.
Said generous Rob,—“What need of books ?
And worses against ourselves.
We have a passion, make a law,
In bitterness of soul.
And puzzled, blinded thus, we lose
That tells me what to do.
The creatures see of food and field,
In peace, and peace of mind.
For why? because the good old rule
And they should keep who can.
A lesson which is quickly learned,
To wanton cruelty.
All freakishness of mind is checked ;
Each fashions his desires.
All kinds and creatures stand and fall
And who is to submit.
Since, then, the rule of right is plain,
· I'll take the shortest way.”—
And thus among these rocks he lived, Through summer's heat and winter's snow ; The eagle, he was lord above,
And Rob was lord below.
Yet thou, although with some wild thoughts,
The liberty of man.
And, had it been thy lot to live
And battled for the right.
For thou wert still the poor man's stay,
'Twas the battle-field, and the cold pale moon
Looked down on the dead and the dying ; And the wind passed o'er with a dirge and a wail,
Where the young and the brave were lying.
With his father's sword in his red right hand,
And the hostile dead around him, Lay a youthful chief; but his bed was the ground,
And the grave's icy sleep had bound him.
A reckless rover, 'mid death and doom,
Passed a soldier, his plunder seeking; Careless he stepped where friend and foe
Lay alike in their life-blood reeking.
Drawn by the shine of the warrior's sword,
The soldier paused beside it :
But the grasp of the dead defied it.
Took part with the dead before him;
And he honoured the brave who died sword in hand,
As with softened brow he bent o'er him.
“A soldier's death thou hast boldly died,
A soldier's grave won by it;-
My own life’s-blood should dye it.
Thou shalt not be left for the carrion crow,
Or the wolf to fatten o'er thee;
Who in life had trembled before thee!”
Then dug he a grave in the crimson earth,
Where his warrior foe was sleeping ;
L. E. LANDON."
BRUCE AND THE SPIDER.
For Scotland's and for freedom's right
The Bruce his part had played ;--
Been conquered and dismayed :
The meed for which he fought;
A hut's lone shelter sought.
And cheerless was that resting-place
For him who claimed a throne ;-
The rude, rough beams alone ;
From couch of eider down!
Through darksome night till dawn of day,
Of Scotland and her crown.
The sun rose brightly, and its gleam
Fell on that hapless bed,
Which roofed the lowly shed;
His filmy thread to fling
Taught Scotland's future king.
Six times the gossamery thread
The wary spider threw ;-
For powerless or untrue
And yet unconquered still ;
His courage, strength, and skill.
One effort more, his seventh and last !
The hero hailed the sign -
That slender silken line!
The lesson well could trace,