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Beside that couch his brother's form,

Lord Edmund, seemed to stand,Such, and so pale, as when in death

He grasped his brother's hand ;

Such, and so pale his face, as when,

With faint and faltering tongue, To William's care, a dying charge,

He left his orphan son.

6 I bade thee with a father's love

My orphan Edmund guard-
Well, William, hast thou kept thy charge!

Now take thy due reward."

He started


each limb convulsed With agonizing fear;He only heard the storm of night,

'Twas music to his ear.

When lo! the voice of loud alarm

His inmost soul appals;
What, ho ! Lord William, rise in haste !
The water saps thy walls !"

He rose, in haste,-beneath the walls

He saw the flood appear ; It hemmed him round, 'twas midnight now,

No human aid was near !

He heard the shout of joy! for now

A boat approached the wall; And eager to the welcome aid

They crowd for safety all.-

“My boat is small,” the boatman cried,

"'Twill bear but one away; Come in Lord William, and do ye

In God's protection stay."

The boatman plied the oar, the boat

Went light along the stream ;Sudden Lord William heard a cry

Like Edmund's drowning scream.

The boatman paused,-“ Methought I heard

A child's distressful cry!” “ 'Twas but the howling winds of night,"

Lord William made reply.

“ Haste !-haste !-ply swift and strong the oar !

Haste !-haste across the stream! Again Lord William heard a cry

Like Edmund's drowning scream.

" I heard a child's distressful scream,”

The boatman cried again.
Nay, hasten on !-the night is dark-
And we should search in vain.”

And, oh! Lord William, dost thou know

How dreadful 'tis to die? And canst thou without pitying hear

A child's expiring cry?

" How horrible it is to sink

Beneath the chilly stream !
To stretch the powerless arms in vain!

In vain for help to scream !”.

The shriek again was heard : It came

More deep, more piercing loud :That instant o'er the flood, the moon

Shone through a broken cloud ;

And near them they beheld a child ;

Upon a crag he stood,
A little crag, and all around

Was spread the rising flood.

The boatman plied the oar, the boat

Approached his resting-place :
The moonbeam shone upon the child,

And showed how pale his face. “ Now reach thine hand !” the boatman cried,

“ Lord William, reach and save !"The child stretched forth his little hands To grasp

the hand he gave.

Then William shrieked :—the hand he touched

Was cold, and damp, and dead ! He felt young Edmund in his arms,

A heavier weight than lead !

The boat sunk down—the murderer sunk,

Beneath the avenging stream ;
He rosebe shrieked—no human ear

Heard William's drowning scream.


A Raven, while with glossy breast
Her new-laid eggs she fondly pressed,
And on her wicker-work high mounted,
Her chickens prematurely counted,
(A fault philosophers might blame,
If quite exempted from the same,)
Enjoyed at ease the genial day:
'Twas April, as the bumpkins say:
But suddenly a wind as high
As ever swept a winter sky,
Shook the young leaves about her ears,
And filled her with a thousand fears,
Lest the rude blast should


the bough, And spread her golden hopes below.

But just at eve the blowing weather, And all her fears were hushed together :

“And now," quoth poor unthinking Ralph,
“ 'Tis over, and the brood is safe.”
(For Ravens, though as birds of omen,
They teach both conjurors and old women
To tell us what is to befal,
Can't prophesy themselves at all.)
The morning came, when neighbour Hodge,
Who long had marked his airy lodge,
And destined all the treasure there
A gift to his expecting fair,
Climbed like a squirrel to his prey,
And bore the worthless prize away.


'Tis Providence alone secures,
In every change, both mine and yours.
Safety consists not in escape
From dangers of a frightful shape :
An earthquake may be bid to spare
The man that's strangled by a hair.
Fate steals along with silent tread,
Found oftenest in what least we dread;
Frowns in the storm with angry brow,
But in the sunshine strikes the blow.


On Linden, when the sun was low,
All bloodless lay the untrodden snow ;
And dark as winter was the flow

Of Iser, rolling rapidly.
But Linden showed another sight,
When the drum beat at dead of night,
Commanding fires of death to light
The darkness of her

By torch and trumpet-sound arrayed,
Each horseman drew his battle-blade;
And furious every charger neighed,

To join the dreadful revelry.

Then shook the hills with thunder riven ;
Then rushed the steed to battle driven ;
And, volleying like the bolts of Heaven,

Far flashed the red artillery.

And redder still these fires shall glow,
On Linden's hills of purpled snow;
And bloodier still shall be the flow

Of Iser, rolling rapidly.
'Tis morn; but scarce yon level sun
Can pierce the war-cloud rolling dun,
When furious Frank and fiery Hun

Shout 'mid their sulphurous canopy.

The combat deepens : On, ye brave !
Who rush to glory and the grave.
Wave, Munich, all thy banners wave,

And charge with all thy chivalry !

Oh ! few shall part where inany meet;
The snow shall be your winding sheet;
And every turf beneath your feet

Shall mark the soldier's cemetery.


Is there no hope ?” the sick Man said.
The silent doctor shook his head,
And took his leave with signs of sorrow,
Despairing of his fee to-morrow.

When thus the Man, with gasping breath :“ I feel the chilling wound of death! “ Since I must bid the world adieu, Let me my former life review. “I grant my bargains were well made, " But all men over-reach in trade;

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