A SPANISH ANECDOTE.

BY MONCKTON MILNES.

Ir was a holy usage to record

Upon each refectory's side or end
The last mysterious supper of our Lord,
That meanest appetites might upwards tend.

Within the convent-palace of old Spain,-
Rich with the gifts and monuments of kings,—
Hung such a picture, said by some to reign
The sov'ran glory of those wondrous things.

A painter of far fame, in deep delight,
Dwelt on each beauty he so well discern'd;
While, in low tones, a gray Geronomite
This answer to his ecstacy returned.

"Stranger! I have received my daily meal
In this good company now three-score years;
And thou, whoe'er thou art, canst hardly feel
How time these lifeless images endears.

Lifeless! ah, no, while in mine heart are stored
Sad memories of my brethren dead and gone,
Familiar places vacant round our board,
And still that silent supper lasting on!

While I review my youth-what I was then,-
What I am now, and ye, beloved ones all,-

It seems as if these were the living men,

And we the colour'd shadows on the wall."

THE SPANISH ARMADA.

BY MACAULAY.

ATTEND all ye who list to hear our noble England's praise,

I tell of the thrice famous deeds she wrought in ancient days,

When the great fleet invincible against her bore in vain

The richest stores of Mexico, the stoutest hearts of Spain.

It was about the lovely close of a warm summer's day,

There came a gallant merchant-ship full sail to Plymouth Bay;

Her crew had seen Castile's black fleet beyond Aurigny's Isle,

At earliest twilight on the waves lie heaving many a mile,

At sunset she escaped their van, by God's especial grace;

And the tall Pinta, till the noon, had held her close in chase.

Forthwith a guard at every gun was placed along the wall;

The beacon blazed upon the roof of Edgcumbe's lofty hall;

Many a light fishing-bark put out to pry along the coast,

And with loose rein and bloody spur rode inland many a post.

With his white hair unbonneted the stout old sheriff

comes;

Behind him march the halberdiers, before him sound the drums;

His yeomen, round the market-cross, make clear an ample space,

For there behoves him to set up the standard of Her Grace.

And haughtily the trumpets peal, and gaily dance the bells,

As slow upon the labouring wind the royal blazon swells.

Look how the lion of the sea lifts up his ancient

crown,

And underneath his deadly paw treads the gay lilies down.

So stalked he when he turned to flight on that famed Picard field,

Bohemia's plume, and Genoa's bow, and Cæsar's eagle shield;

So glared he when at Agincourt in wrath he turned to bay,

And crushed and torn beneath his paws the princely hunters lay.

Ho! strike the flag-staff deep, Sir Knight; ho! scatter flowers, fair maids:

Ho! gunners, fire a loud salute: ho! gallants, draw your blades;

Thou sun, shine on her joyously-ye breezes waft her wide;

Our glorious Semper Eadem-the banner of our pride.

The freshening breeze of eve unfurled that banner's massy fold,

The parting gleam of sunshine kissed that haughty scroll of gold;

Night sank upon the dusky beach, and on the purple

sea,

Such night in England ne'er had been, nor e'er again shall be.

From Eddystone to Berwick bounds, from Lynn to Milford Bay,

That time of slumber was as bright and busy as the day;

For swift to east and swift to west the warning radiance spread;

High on St. Michael's Mount it shone-it shone on Beachey Head.

Far on the deep the Spaniard saw, along each southern shire,

Cape beyond cape, in endless range, those twinkling points of fire;

The fisher left his skiff to rock on Tamar's glittering

waves,

The rugged miners poured to war from Mendip's sunless caves.

Longleat's towers, o'er Cranbourne's oaks, the fiery herald flew ;

He roused the shepherds of Stonehenge, the rangers of Beaulieu.

Right sharp and quick the bells all night rang out from Bristol town,

And ere the day three hundred horse had met on Clifton down;

The sentinel on Whitehall gate looked forth into the night,

And saw, o'erhanging Richmond Hill, the streak of blood-red light.

Then bugle's note and cannon's roar the death-like silence broke,

And with one start, and with one cry, the royal city woke.

At once on all her stately gates arose the answering fires s;

At once the loud alarum clashed from all her reeling spires;

From all the batteries of the Tower pealed loud the voice of fear;

And all the thousand masts of Thames sent back a louder cheer:

And from the farthest wards were heard the rush of hurrying feet,

And the broad streams of flags and pikes dashed down each roaring street:

And broader still became the blaze, and louder still the din,

As fast from every village round the horse came spurring in :

And eastward straight, from wild Blackheath, the warlike errand went,

And raised in many an ancient hall the gallant squires of Kent.

Southward, from Surrey's pleasant hills, flew those bright couriers forth;

High on bleak Hampstead's swarthy moor they started for the North;

And on, and on, without a pause, untired they bounded still,

All night from tower to tower they sprang-they sprang from hill to hill,

Till the proud Peak unfurled the flag o'er Darwin's rocky dales

Till like volcanoes flared to Heaven the stormy hills of Wales

The twelve fair counties saw the blaze on Malvern's lonely height

Till streamed in crimson on the wind the Wrekin's crest of light

Till broad and fierce the star came forth on Ely's stately fane,

And tower and hamlet rose in arms o'er all the boundless plain;