Monro, Edward, pp. 131, 232.

Monsell, John S. B. pp. 233, 235.

Moore, Thomas, pp. 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74.

Moultrie, John, p. 292.

Osgood, Frances, p. 237.

Parnell, Thomas, p. 37.
Peabody, William, p. 239.
Percival, J. G. pp. 245, 247.
Rogers, Samuel, pp. 75, 80.

Sigourney, L. H. pp. 251, 254.

Sprague, Charles, p. 249.

Tennyson, Alfred, pp. 265, 269, 274, 279, 280, 281, 283, 290, 291.
Thomson, James, p. 1.

Trench, Richard Chenevix, pp. 296, 307, 308, 309, 310, 312, 314.
Vaughan, Henry, p. 61.

Wolfe, Charles, p. 65.

Wordsworth, William, pp. 154, 155, 159, 162, 165, 166, 175, 193, 195, 203, 205, 206, 209, 213, 215, 216, 217, 220, 221, 223, 224.

Words from the Poets.

RULE BRITANNIA.

When Britain first at Heaven's command,
Arose from out the azure main,

This was the charter of her land,
And guardian angels sung the strain :

Rule Britannia! Britannia rules the waves!
Britons never shall be slaves.

The nations not so blest as thee,
Must in their turns to tyrants fall,
Whilst thou shalt flourish great and free,
The dread and envy of them all.

Still more majestic shalt thou rise,

More dreadful from each foreign stroke;

As the loud blast that tears the skies
Serves but to root thy native oak.

B

Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame ;
All their attempts to bend thee down
Will but arouse thy generous flame,
And work their woe and thy renown.

To thee belongs the rural reign;

Thy cities shall with commerce shine; All thine shall be the subject main, And every shore it circles thine!

The Muses still, with Freedom found,
Shall to thy happy coast repair;
Blest Isle, with matchless beauty crowned,
And manly hearts to guard the fair

Rule Britannia! Britannia rules the waves !
Britons never shall be slaves.

Thomson.

THE DOG AND THE WATER LILY.

The noon was shady, and soft airs
Swept Ouse's silent tide,
When, 'scaped from literary cares,
I wandered on his side.

My spaniel, prettiest of his race,
And high in pedigree,

(Two nymphs, adorned with every grace, That spaniel found for me)

Now wantoned lost in flags and reeds,

Now starting into sight,

Pursued the swallow o'er the meads
With scarce a slower flight.

It was the time when Ouse displayed
His lilies newly blown;

Their beauties I intent surveyed,
And one I wished my own.

With cane extended, far I sought
To steer it close to land;

But still the prize, though nearly caught,
Escaped my eager hand.

Beau marked my unsuccessful pains,
With fixt considerate face,

And puzzling set his puppy brains
To comprehend the case.

But with a chirrup clear and strong,
Dispersing all his dream,

I thence withdrew, and followed long
The windings of the stream.

My ramble finished, I returned,
Beau trotting far before,

The floating wreath again discerned,
And plunging left the shore.

I saw him with that lily cropped,
Impatient swim to meet

My quick approach, and soon he dropped
The treasure at my feet.

Charmed with the sight, the world, I cried,
Shall hear of this thy deed:

My dog shall mortify the pride
Of man's superior breed:

But chief myself I will enjoin,

Awake at duty's call,

To show a love as prompt as thine,

To Him who gives me all.

Cowper.