In the redoubt a fair form towered,

That cheered up the brave and chid the coward; Brandishing blade with a gallant air,

His head erect and his temples bare.

"Fly! they are on us!" his men implored;
But he waved them on with his waving sword.
"It cannot be held; 'tis no shame to go !"
But he stood with his face set hard to the foe.

Then clung they about him and tugged and knelt.
He drew a pistol from out his belt,

And fired it blank at the first that set
Foot on the edge of the parapet.

Over, that first one toppled; but on
Clambered the rest till their bayonets shone,
As hurriedly fled his men dismayed,

Not a bayonet's length from the length of his blade.

"Yield!" But aloft his steel he flashed,
And down on their steel it ringing clashed;
Then back he reeled with a bladeless hilt,
His honour full, but his life-blood spilt.

Mehemet Ali came and saw

The riddled breast and the tender jaw.
"Make him a bier of your arms," he said,
"And daintily bury this dainty dead!"

They lifted him up from the dabbled ground;
His limbs were shapely and soft and round.
No down on his lip, on his cheek no shade ;-
"Bismillah!" they cried, "'tis an Infidel maid!

"Dig her a grave where she stood and fell, 'Gainst the jackal's scratch and the vulture's smell. Did the Muscovite men like their maidens fight, In their lines we had scarcely supped to-night."

So a deeper trench 'mong the trenches there
Was dug, for the form as brave as fair;
And none, till the Judgment trump and shout,
Shall drive her out of the Last Redoubt.

WOW do I know that love is blind, for I

Now

Can see no beauty on

this beateous earth,

No life, no light, no hopefulness, no mirth,
Pleasure nor purpose, when thou art not nigh.
Thy absence exiles sunshine from the sky,
Seres Spring's maturity, checks Summer's birth,
Leaves linnet's pipe as sad as plover's cry,
And makes me in abundance find but dearth.
But when thy feet flutter the dark, and thou
With orient eyes dawnest on my distress,
Suddenly sings a bird on every bough,

The heavens expand, the earth grows less and less,
The ground is buoyant as the ether now,
And all looks lovely in thy loveliness.

II.-LOVE'S WISDOM.

OW on the summit of Love's topmost peak

Now

Kiss we and part; no farther can we go: And better death than we from high to low Should dwindle, or decline from strong to weak. We have found all, there is no more to seek; All have we proved, no more is there to know; And time could only tutor us to eke Our rapture's warmth with custom's afterglow. We cannot keep at such a height as this; For even straining souls like ours inhale But once in life so rarefied a bliss.

What if we lingered till love's breath should fail! Heaven of my Earth! one more celestial kiss, Then down by separate pathways to the Vale.

Richard Garnett.

1835.

RICHARD GARNETT, the son of the Rev. Richard Garnett, was born at Lichfield on the 27th of February, 1835, and was educated privately. At the age of sixteen he entered the British Museum as an assistant in the Printed Book Department, of which he was appointed Keeper at the beginning of 1890. From 1875 to 1884 he had been Superintendent of the Reading Room, and had carried the general catalogue through the press from 1881 until his appointment as Keeper. He retired in 1899, and has since resided at Hampstead. The most important of the numerous remarkable acquisitions made for the Library during his term of office are commemorated in a volume by Messrs. Pollard and Proctor, entitled "Three Hundred Notable Books." In 1883 the University of Edinburgh conferred upon him the degree of LL.D., and he was made a C.B. in 1895.

Mr. Garnett's first book was an anonymous volume entitled "Primula and other Lyrics," the authorship of which was acknowledged in the preface to "Io in Egypt, and other Poems," published in the following year. To 1862 belongs "Poems from the German," to 1869, "Idylls and Epigrams, chiefly from the Greek Anthology," republished as "A Chaplet from the Greek Anthology," in 1892. In 1890 appeared "Iphigenia in Delphi"; in 1896, "One hundred and twenty

four sonnets from Dante, Petrarch, and Camoens," in 1901, "The Queen, and other Sonnets," and in 1904, "William Shakespeare, Pedagogue and Poacher," a drama in blank verse. A short excerpt from this last work is conveniently inserted here:

"SHAKESPEARE.

Sir Thomas, I will stand your friend at Court:
On two conditions, one that presently

You do unclose the path you stopped last Christmas:
Next, that although the noble Earl of Leicester
Your sentence doth annul, yet, by his favour,
Two parts revoked, you amplify the third,
And banish me from Stratford for ten years.

LEICESTER.

What moveth thee to this?

SHAKESPEARE.

My Lady Lucy

Surmiseth shrewdly, so doth Mistress Shakespeare.
And I myself would set division

Between my past and future, signifying

The new life to be led. Too long I 've lingered

In

my dark morning hours, but, now the sun

Of regal favour rises on my path,

Needs must I follow this to glorious noonday,

And then, unto my native place reverting,

Which ne'er was aught but dear to me, or shall be,

There, slowly through the golden hours declining,
Will set in splendour, like the westering sun,
But, unlike him, in the same zone and region
Where origin I had.

LEICESTER.

'Tis nobly spoken,

And know the Earl of Leicester for thy friend,
Not less than her great Majesty, and able
To ope yet wider worlds to thee. The quarrel
'Twixt Spain and England draweth to a head,
And soon the world shall ring with it, and then