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O, in that fearful, that decisive hour,

Rebel not, shrink not, seek not thence to flee, But, humbly bending, take thy heavy load, And bear it after Jesus patiently.

His cross is thine. If thou and he be one,
Some portion of his pain must still be thine;
Thus only may'st thou share his glorious crown,
And reign with him in majesty divine.

Master in sorrow! I accept my share

In the great anguish of life's mystery. No more, alone, I sink beneath my load, But bear my cross, O Jesus, after thee.

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Quoth tongue of neither maid nor wife
To heart of neither wife nor maid,
Lead we not here a jolly life

Betwixt the shine and shade?

Quoth heart of neither maid nor wife
To tongue of neither wife nor maid,
Thou wagg'st, but I am worn with strife,
And feel like flowers that fade.

"A GOOD KNIGHT, HIGHT SIR VANTAPOUR."

A good Knight, hight Sir Vantadour,

Got on his horse and rode an hour;

Out of the city he rode amain,

And came to a forest that stood on a plain.

So full of wild beasts was that wood,

Enter it no man durst nor could;
And those that did in twain were cleft,
And eaten up till nothing was left.

"A GOOD KNIGHT, HIGHT SIR VANTADOUR." 607

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Through the wood the Knight rode forth
For half a day from south to north;

When, lo! a Dragon he descried,

And on its back a lady astride.
That Dame and Dragon were akin,
Pride was he, and she was Sin;

The Dragon hissed, and reared his crest,
The good Knight laid his lance in rest.

"Beware," said Sin; "for Pride is strong,
"And mighty to uphold the wrong;
"And woe to those that him attack,
"Hissing, with me upon his back."

The Knight he rose a-tilt and smote
The scaly Dragon in his throat;
The Dragon writhed and hissed and spat,
But nowise blenched the Knight thereat.

Then called the Dragon from six caves
Six Blackamoors that were his slaves;
The Knight bade each and all advance,
And featly slew them with his lance,

Likewise the Dragon. Sin the while
No longer frowned, but seemed to smile;
And called six Syrens fair to sight,
Who flung their arms around the Knight.

But back he stepped, and “Lo!” said he,

"To fight with maids is not for me;

I know to fight where fame is won,

"But now best courage is to run."

So first he fought and then he ran,
Sir Vantadour, that righteous man:
And we from his ensample learn,
To flee from Sin and Pride to spurn.

Holy St. Gregory, grant us grace

To spurn at Sin and spit in her face! Amen.
ST. CLEMENTS' EVE, Act. III., Sc. 3.

A maupon

THE "REVENGE."

A BALLAD OF THE FLEET.

I.

At Flores in the Azores Sir Richard Grenville lay,

And a pinnace, like a flutter'd bird, came flying from far away: "Spanish ships of war at sea! we have sighted fifty-three!" Then sware Lord Thomas Howard: "'Fore God I am no

coward;

"But I cannot meet them here, for my ships are out of gear, "And the half my men are sick. I must fly, but follow quick. "We are six ships of the line: can we fight with fifty-three?"

II.

Then spake Sir Richard Grenville: "I know you are no coward; "You fly them for a moment to fight with them again. "But I've ninety men and more that are lying sick ashore,

"I should count myself the coward if I left them, my Lord

Howard,

"To these Inquisition dogs and the devildoms of Spain."

III.

So Lord Howard past away with five ships of war that day,
Till he melted like a cloud in the silent summer heaven;

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