By this the storm grew loud apace,
The water-wraith was shrieking;
And in the scowl of heaven each face
Grew dark as they were speaking.

But still as wilder blew the wind,

And as the night grew drearer, Adown the glen rode arméd men,

Their trampling sounded nearer.

Oh, haste thee, haste!" the lady cries, "Though tempests round us gather; I'll meet the raging of the skies,

But not an angry father."

The boat has left a stormy land,
A stormy sea before her,

When oh! too strong for human hand,
The tempest gather'd o'er her.

And still they row'd amidst the roar
Of waters fast prevailing:
Lord Ullin reach'd that fatal shore,

His wrath was changed to wailing;

For sore dismay'd, through storm and shade,
His child he did discover:

One lovely hand she stretch'd for aid,
And one was round her lover.

"Come back! come back!" he cried in grief, "Across this stormy water:

And I'll forgive your Highland chief,

My daughter!-oh my daughter!"

'Twas vain: the loud waves lashed the shore,

Return or aid preventing;

The waters wild went o'er his child,

And he was left lamenting.

THOMAS CAMPBELL (1777-1844), a British poet and critic, was born in Glasgow. His works include "Pleasures of Hope," "Lochiel's Warning," "Ye Mariners of England," "Battle of the Baltic," "Exile of Erin," and "Hohenlinden." (He saw the battle of Hohenlinden.) "Pleasures of Hope" is the most popular.

THE CORONATION OF THE CZAR AND THE CZARINA

The coronation was much more beautiful than any one could possibly have imagined that it was going to be. The tribune to the right of the thrones was the one most closely crowded. It held the grand-duchesses and the ladies of the court, who were in the native costume of the country, and who wore the diamonds for which Russia is celebrated.

On the tribune immediately behind the throne stood the Russian senators in magnificent coats of gold, with boots to the hip and white leather breeches, and with ostrich feathers in their peaked hats. With them were the correspondents, the Germans and Russians in military uniforms, the Englishmen

in their own court dress, and the Frenchmen and Americans in evening dress.

The diplomats and their wives, and the visiting commandersin-chief and generals of armies from all over the world, occupied the third tribune to the left of the throne, and formed the most splendid and gorgeous group of all. Around the platform itself were the princes and grand-dukes glittering with the chains and crosses of the imperial orders. Between the screen and the platform the priests moved to and fro in jeweled mitres as large as a diver's helmet, and in robes stiff with gold and precious stones, their vestments flashing like the scales of goldfish.

But nothing in the whole drama of the morning presented so impressive a picture as did the young Empress when she first entered the chapel and stood before her throne. Of all the women there, she was the most simply robed, and of all the women there, she was by far the most beautiful, A single string of pearls was her only ornament, and her hair, which was worn like that of a Russian peasant girl, fell in two long plaits over her bare shoulders. Her robe of white and silver was as simple as that of a child going to her first communion.

The most interesting part of the ceremony, perhaps, was when the Czar changed from a bareheaded young officer in a colonel's uniform, to an emperor in the most magnificent robes an emperor could assume, and when the Czarina followed him, and from the peasant girl became a queen, with the majesty of a queen.

When the moment had arrived for this transformation to take place, the Czar's uncle, the Grand-Duke Vladimir, and his younger brother Alexander lifted the collars of the different orders from the Czar's shoulders. They then fastened upon