Puslapio vaizdai
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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?

11. Did the fact that his mother was

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 educated?

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

XVI.-THE DEATH OF KEELDAR.

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.

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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.

Now day may break and bugle sound,
And whoop and hollow ring around,
And o'er his couch the stag may bound,
But Keeldar sleeps for ever.

Dilated nostrils, staring eyes,

Mark the poor palfrey's mute surprise,
He knows not that his comrade dies,
Nor what is death-but still
His aspect hath expression drear,
Of grief and wonder, mix'd with fear,
Like startled children when they hear
Some mystic tale of ill,

But he that bent the fatal bow,
Can well the sum of evil know,
And o'er his favourite, bending low,
In speechless grief recline;
Can think he hears the senseless clay,
In unreproachful accents say,
"The hand that took my life away,
Dear master, was it thine?

"And if it be, the shaft be bless'd,
Which sure some erring aim address'd,
Since in your service prized, caress'd
I in your service die ;

And you may have a fleeter hound,
To match the dun-deer's merry bound,
But by your couch will ne'er be found
So true a guard as I."

And to his last stout Percy rued
The fatal chance, for when he stood
'Gainst fearful odds in deadly feud,
And fell amid the fray,

E'en with his dying voice he cried,"
Had Keeldar but been at my side,
Your treacherous ambush had been spied-
I had not died to-day?"

Remembrance of the erring bow

Long since had join'd the tides which flow,

Conveying human bliss and woe
Down dark oblivion's river;
But Art can Time's stern doom arrest,
And snatch his spoil from Lethe's1 breast,
And, in her Cooper's colours drest,

The scene shall live for ever.

1. Give me some history of Percy Rede. 2. What suggested the stanzas to Sir Walter Scott?

3. Describe the jovial three as they might be seen at sunrise.

4. Why" Cheviot's rueful day"? 5. What were the names and qualities of master, steed, and hound?

6. In what way did the three spend the live-long day?

7. Describe the scene at the thicket that concealed the deer.

8. Of the wood of what tree were bows chiefly made?

9. Did the shaft shot by Percy Rede wound the deer?

10. Which animal did it accidentally kill?

Scott.

11. What mean you by the "faithless yew"?

12. What things shall no more rouse noble Keeldar?

13. How looked the horse as he stood by the hound?

14. Who must feel the loss in the highest degree?

15, What may he be supposed to think he hears Keeldar say?

16. By whom was bold Percy Rede murdered?

17. What were among his last words? 18. What art keeps this beautiful story in remembrance?

19. In what way is it now preserved besides by Cooper's picture?

XVII.-LINES SUGGESTED BY A BEAUTIFUL STATUE OF A DEAD CHILD.

"How still and peaceful is the grave!
Where, life's vain tumults past,

Th' appointed house, by Heav'n's decree,
Receives us all at last."

I saw thee in thy beauty! thou wert graceful as the fawn,
When in very wantonness of glee it sports upon the lawn:
I saw thee seek the mirror, and when it met thy sight
The very air was musical with thy burst of wild delight.

I saw thee in thy beauty! with thy sister by thy side;
She a lily of the valley, thou a rose in all its pride:
I look'd upon thy mother-there was triumph in her eyes,
And I trembled for her happiness, for grief had made me wise.

I saw thee in thy beauty! with one hand among her curls-
The other with no gentle grasp had seized a string of pearls;
She felt the pretty tresspass, and she chid thee, though she
smiled,

And I knew not which was lovelier, the mother or the child.

A river in the infernal regions whose waters caused forgetfulness.

I see thee in thy beauty! for there thou seem'st to lie
In slumber resting peacefully: but, oh! the change of eye-
That still serenity of brow-those lips that breathe no more,
Proclaim thee but a mockery fair of what thou wert of yore.

I see thee in thy beauty! with thy waving hair at rest,
And thy busy little fingers folded lightly on thy breast;
But thy merry dance is over, and thy little race is run,
And the mirror that reflected two can now give back but one!

I see thee in thy beauty! as I saw thee on that day!
Bht the mirth that gladden'd then thy home fled with thy
life away.

I see thee lying motionless upon the accustom'd floor;
But my heart hath blinded both mine eyes, and I can see no
Mrs. A. Watts.

more !

1. What suggested these beautiful lines? 2. What would the stillness of the statue naturally bring to mind?

3. What, the sad, shrouded, soulless eye?

4. What, the serene brow and the breathless lip?

5. What, the stony curls and the little shut hand?

6. The surviving sister standing in front of the mirror would cause what painful remembrance ?

7. Are any sounds more delightful than the voices of happy children?

8. Contrast the state of this house now, with the time when it rung with the two sisters' voices?

9. What would come to mind on beholding the sorrow-stricken mother?

10. Is not the heart called the seat of the affections?

11. Explain to me the last most expressive line?

12. Seeing that death snatches away the young as well as the old, how ought you all to act?

13. Repeat to me the words of Ecclesiastes xii. 1.

XVIII.-A PARENTAL ODE TO MY CHILD.

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THOU happy, happy elf!

(But stop-first let me kiss away that tear)
Thou tiny image of myself!

(My love, he's poking peas into his ear)
Thou merry laughing sprite !

With spirits feather light,

Uutouched by sorrow, and unsoiled by sin,
(See! see! the child is swallowing a pin !)

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