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COURAGE IN EXTREMITY.

BY SCOTT.

My soul hath felt a secret weight,
A warning of approaching fate.
A priest had said, Return, repent!
As well to bid that rock be rent.
Firm as that flint I face mine end;
My heart may burst, but cannot bend.

The dawning of my youth, with awe
And prophecy, the Dalesmen saw;
For over Redesdale it came,
As bodeful as the beacon flame.
Edmund, thy years were scarcely mine,
When, challenging the clans of Tyne
To bring their best my brand to prove,
O'er Hexham's altar hung my glove;
But Tynedale nor in tower nor town,
Held champion meet to take it down.
My noontide India may declare ;
Like her fierce Sun, I fired the air!
Like him, to wood and cave bade fly
Her natives, from mine angry eye.
Panama's maids shall long look pale
When Risingham inspires the tale ;
Chili's dark matrons long shall tame
The froward child with Bertram's name.

And now my race of terror run,
Mine be the eve of tropic sun!
No pale gradations quench his ray,
No twilight dews his wrath allay;
With disc like battle target red,
He rushes to his burning bed,
Dyes the wide wave with bloody light,
Then sinks at once and all is night.

BASIL'S ADDRESS TO HIS MUTINOUS

TROOPS.

BY JOANNA BAILLIE.

SOLDIERS ! we've fought together in the field, And bravely fought : i' the face of horrid death, At honours call, I've led you dauntless on: Nor do I know the man of all your bands, That ever poorly from the trial shrunk, Or yielded to the foes contended space. Am I the meanest then of all my troops, That thus ye think, with base unmanly threats, To move me now? Put up those paltry weapons; They edgeless are to him who fears them not: Rocks have been shaken from the solid base; But what shall move a firm and dauntless mind ?

onna

HAROLD THE DAUNTLESS.

BY SCOTT.

Count HAROLD gazed upon the oak
As if his eye-strings would have broke,

And then resolvedly said, -
“Be what it will yon phantom gray-
Nor heaven, nor hell, shall ever say
That for their shadows from his way

Count Harold turned dismayed :
I'll speak him, though his accents fill
My heart with that unwonted thrill-

Which vulgar minds call fear.
I will subdue it!”-Forth he strode,
Paused where the blighted oak-tree showed
Its sable shadow on the road,
And folding on his bosom broad

His arms, said, “ Speak- I hear."

I dare assure thee, that no enemy
Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus:
The Gods defend him from so great a shame!
When you do find him, or alive, or dead,
He will be found like Brutus,-like himself.

Shakespeare.

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IF THOU HAST LOST A FRIEND.

BY CHARLES SWAIN.

If thou hast lost a friend,

By hard or hasty word,
Go-call him to thy heart again;

Let pride no more be heard.
Remind him of those happy days,

Too beautiful to last;
Ask, if a word should cancel years

Of truth and friendship past ?
Oh! if thou'st lost a friend,

By hard or hasty word,
Go,-call him to thy heart again;
Let pride no more be heard.
Oh! tell him, from thy thought

The light of joy hath fled ;
That, in thy sad and silent breast,

Thy lonely heart seems dead ;
That mount and vale,-each path ye trod,

By morn or evening dim,-
Reproach you with their frowning gaze,

And ask your soul for him.
Then, if thou'st lost a friend,

By hard or hasty word,
Go,-call him to thy heart again;

Let pride no more be heard.

FRIENDSHIP.

In companions
That do converse and waste the time together,
Whose souls do bear an equal yoke of lovec
There needs must be a like proportion
Of lincaments, of manners, and of spirit

Shakespear

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