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BANNOCKBURN

At Bannockburn the English lay,
The Scots they were na far away,

But waited for the break o' day,
That glinted in the east.

But soon the sun broke through the heath
And lighted up the field o' death,

When Bruce, wi' saul-inspiring breath
His heralds thus addressed: -

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"Lay the proud usurpers low;

Tyrants fall in every foe,

Liberty's in every blow!

Forward let us do, or die!"— Burns.

FROM PIPPA PASSES

The year's at the Spring

And day's at the morn,
Morning's at seven:

The hillside's dew-pearled,

The lark's on the wing,

The snail's on the thorn,

God's in his heaven,

All's right with the world. Browning.

THE FIFTIETH BIRTHDAY OF AGASSIZ

It was fifty years ago

In the pleasant month of May,

In the beautiful Pays de Vaud,
A child in its cradle lay.

And Nature, the old nurse, took
The child upon her knee,

Saying "Here is a story-book

Thy Father has written for thee."

"Come, wander with me," she said,
"Into regions yet untrod;

And read what is still unread
In the manuscripts of God."

And he wandered away and away
With Nature, the dear old nurse,

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