Puslapio vaizdai

"Your horse was down-your hope was flown-I saw the falchion shine,

That soon had drank your royal blood, had I not ventured mine;

But memory soon of service done deserteth the ingrate, And ye've thank'd the son for life and crown by the father's bloody fate.

"Ye swore upon your kingly faith, to set Don Sancho free," But, curse upon your paltering breath, the light he ne'er did


He died in dungeon cold and dim, by Alphonso's base decree, And visage blind, and stiffen'd limb, were all they gave to me.

"The king that swerveth from his word hath stain'd his purple black,

No Spanish Lord will draw the sword behind a liar's back: But noble vengeance shall be mine, an open hate I'll showThe King hath injur'd Carpio's line, and Bernard is his foe.” "Seize-sieze him!"-loud the King doth scream- "There are a thousand here

Let his foul blood this instant stream-What! caitiffs, do you fear?

Seize-seize the traitor!"-But not one to move a finger dareth,

Bernardo standeth by the throne, and calm his sword he bareth.

He drew the falchion from the sheath, and held it up on high, And all the hall was still as death: cries Bernard, "Here am I, And here is the sword that owns no lord, excepting Heaven and me;

Fain would I know who dares his point-King, Condé, or Grandee !"

Then to his mouth the horn he drew-(it hung below his cloak)

His ten true men the signal knew, and through the ring they broke ;

2 The king had promised to Bernardo, to liberate his father Don Sancho, but the son received only his father's corpse, which had been arrayed in armour and set in order to meet him. A similar incident is related by Sir Walter Scott in his Tales of a Grandfather, chap. xxi.

With helm on head, and blade in hand, the knights the circle brake,

And back the lordlings 'gan to stand, and the false king to quake.

"Ha! Bernard," quoth Alphonso, "what means this warlike guise?

Ye know full well I jested-ye know your worth I prize." But Bernard turn'd upon his heel, and smiling pass'd awayLong rued Alphonso and his realm the jesting of that day. Lockhart.

1. Name Bernardo's parents.

2. In what century did Charlemagne flourish ?

3. Why is Alphonso called the lying King?

4. Describe Bernardo as he approaches the throne.

5. What are the words of the king as Bernardo advances ?

6. What reply does the champion make to the king's calumny and threat?

7. State the history of the facts alluded to in verse 4th.

8. Relate an incident from Scottish his

tory similar to the one mentioned in verse 6th?

9. What does Bernard say of the king who breaks his faith?

10. Was Bernard seized at the king's command ?

11. In what words does our champion challenge the king and his nobles?

12. What takes place when the horn is blown?

13. In what tone did the king now address him?

14. What sort of smile would Bernardo give on leaving the hall?


SCRIPTURE describes human nature by saying that "man is born like a wild ass's colt!" If this graphic description be correct, then we cannot begin the process of subduing and training too early. The men who are engaged in catching, taking, and exhibiting wild beasts, never think of catching one that is old, or even grown up. They take them as young as possible, and even then find it difficult to manage them. They act on the soundest principles of wisdom. The experiment has often been made of taking young savages, sometimes from the Indians of this continent, [America,] and sometimes from the eastern Isles, and educating and civilizing them; after spending much money and pains-taking, we have almost uniformly been disappointed by seeing them return to savage life, and savage habits. Some years since, a young New Zealander was carried to England, where he lived many years, was carefully educated, and introduced into the most refined society. When his education was completed, he returned to his home, and at once returned to the habits, the character, and the degradations of savage life. This has almost uniformly been the result of attempts to civilize and educate young savages. And why? On what principle can it be accounted for? I reply, that the work was begun too late. The impres sions made upon early childhood cannot be effaced. You may take the young savage, and make a palace his home, and he is like the young ass's colt: he longs for the forest, for the lawlessness of savage life. This principle is deep, uniform, unalterable.-Rev. John Todd.


Why wouldst thou leave me, oh! gentle child? Thy home on the mountain is bleak and wild,

A straw-roofed cabin with lowly wall—

Mine is a fair and pillared hall,

Where many an image of marble gleams,

And the sunshine of pictures for ever streams!"

Boy. "Oh! green is the turf where my brothers play, Through the long bright hours of the summer day; They find the red cup-moss where they climb, And they chase the bee o'er the scented thyme; And the rocks where the heath-flower blooms they know, Lady, kind lady, oh! let me go!"

LADY. "Content thee, boy, in my bower to dwell; Here are sweet sounds which thou lovest well;

Flutes on the air in the stilly noon,

Harps which the wandering breezes tune:
And the silvery wood-note of many a bird,
Whose voice was ne'er in thy mountains heard.”

Boy. "My mother sings at the twilight's fall,
of the hills far more sweet than all;
She sings it under our own green tree,
To the babe half slumbering on her knee,
I dreamt last night of that music low,
Lady, kind lady, oh! let me go!"

LADY. " Thy mother hath gone from her cares to rest, She hath taken the babe on her quiet breast; Thou wouldst meet her footsteps, my boy, no more, Nor hear her song at the cabin door;

Come thou with me to the vineyards nigh,

And we'll pluck the grapes of the richest dye!"

Boy. "Is my mother gone from her home away! But I know that my brothers are there at play; I know they are gathering the fox-glove's bell, And the long fern-leaves by the sparkling well, And they launch their boats where the blue streams flow, Lady, kind lady, oh! let me go!"

LADY. "Fair child, thy brothers are wanderers now, They sport no more on the mountain's brow,

They have left the fern by the spring's green side,
And the streams where the fairy barks were tied.
Be thou at peace in thy brighter lot,
For thy cabin-home is a lonely spot!"

Boy. "Are they gone, all gone from the hill?
But the bird and the blue-fly rove o'er it still,


And the red deer bound in their gladness free,"
And the heath is bent by the singing bee,
And the waters leap, and the fresh winds blow,
Lady, sweet lady, oh! let me go!"

1. Describe the home of the mountain child.

2. Describe the hall in which the Lady dwelt.

3. With whom would the boy rather have been at play?

4. How, did he say, his brothers amused themselves through the summer day? 5. What sweet sounds were heard in the Lady's bower?

6. But who sung a song far sweeter to his ear than these songs?

7. To whom did his mother sing this loved song?

8. Of what had he dreamed the night

before ?

9. What would make him dream about it, think you?

10. Where were the mother and the babe now?

Mrs. Hemans.

now dead make him willing to stay with the lady?

12. His mother being gone, whom did he expect to find on the mountains still? 13. What did he think they would be doing?

14. Ah me! where were his brothers now?

15. Seeing that mother and brothers were all gone, did the mountains possess no more charms for him now?

16. What beloved objects might still be found there?

17. Since early impressions are so deep and lasting, when should we begin to educate ?

18. How does the Scripture describe human nature?

19. What about the young Zealander who was carried to England and edu

11. Did the fact that his mother was cated?

20. Who will quote to me Prov. xxii, 6?


Percy or Percival Rede of Trochend, in Redesdale, Northumberland, is celebrated in tradition as a hunstman, and a soldier. He was, upon two occasions, singularly unfortunate; once, when an arrow, which he had discharged at a deer, killed his celebrated dog Keeldar; and again, when, being on a hunting party, he was betrayed into the hands of a clan called Crossar, by whom he was murdered. Mr. Cooper's painting of the first of these incidents, suggested the following stanzas.

[blocks in formation]

UP rose the sun, o'er moor and mead;
Up with the sun rose Percy Rede;
Brave Keeldar, from his couples freed,
Career'd along the lea;

The palfrey sprung with sprightly bound,
As if to match the gamesome hound;
His horn the gallant huntsman wound:
They were a jovial three!

Man, hound, or horse, of higher fame,
To wake the wild deer never came,
Since Alnwick's Earl pursued the game
On Cheviot's' rueful day;
Keeldar was matchless in his speed,
Than Tarras, ne'er was stauncher steed,
A peerless archer, Percy Rede:

And right dear friends were they,

The chase engross'd their joys and woes,
Together at the dawn they rose,
Together shared the noon's repose,
By fountain or by stream;

And oft when evening skies were red,
The heather was their common bed,
Where each, as wildering fancy led,
Still hunted in his dream.

Now is the thrilling moment near,
Of sylvan hope and sylvan fear,
Yon thicket holds the harbour'd deer,
The signs the hunters know ;-
With eyes of flame, and quivering ears,
The brake sagacious Keeldar nears;
The restless palfrey paws and rears;
The archer strings his bow.

The game's afoot!-Halloo! Halloo!
Hunter, and horse, and hound pursue ;-
But woe the shaft that erring flew-
That e'er it left the string!
And ill betide the faithless yew!
The stag bounds scatheless o'er the dew,
And gallant Keeldar's life-blood true
Has drench'd the grey-goose wing.

The noble hound-he dies, he dies,
Death, death, has glazed his fixed eyes,
Stiff on the bloody heath he lies,
Without a groan or quiver.

1 See ballad of Chevy Chase, which relates, perhaps, a totally fictitious event, unless it may be founded on the battle of Otterbourne, (1388) the only one mentioned in history in which a Douglas fell fighting with a Percy.

« AnkstesnisTęsti »