grandsire, an old man, was telling of Marathon' and Leuctra ;' and how, in ancient times, a little band of Spartans, in a defile of the mountains, had withstood a whole army. I did not then know what war was; but my cheeks burned, I knew not why, and I clasped the knees of that venerable man, until my mother, parting the hair from off my forehead, kissed my throbbing temples, and både me go to rest, and think no more of those old tales and savage wars. That very night, the Romans landed on our coast. I saw the breast that had nourished me trampled by the hoof of the war-horse; the bleeding body of my father flung amidst the blazing rafters of cur dwelling!

6. "To-day I killed a man in the arēna; and, when I broke his helmet-clasps, behold! he was my friend. He knew me, smiled faintly, gasped, and died;-the same sweet smile upon his lips that I had marked, when, in adventurous boyhood, we scaled the lofty cliff to pluck the first ripe grapes, and bear them home in childish triumph. I told the pretor that the dead man had been my friend, generous and brave; and I begged that I might bear away the body, to burn it on a funeral pile, and mourn over its ashes. Ay!3 upon my knees, amid the dust and blood of the arēna, I begged that poor boon, while all the assembled maids and mātrons, and the holy virgins they call Vestals, and the rabble, shouted in derision, deeming it rare sport, forsooth, to see Rome's fiercest gladiator turn pale and tremble at sight of that piece of bleeding clay! And the pretor drew back as I were pollution, and sternly said, 'Let the carrion rot; there are no noble men but Romans!' And so, fellow-gladiators, must you, and so must I, die like dogs. 7. "O Rome! Rome! thou hast been a tender nurse to me. Ay! thou hast given, to that poor, gentle, timid shepherd lad, who never knew a harsher tone than a flute-note, muscles of iron and a heart of flint: taught him to drive the sword through plaited mail and links of rugged brass, and warm it in the mărrow of his foe :—to gaze into the glaring eye-balls of the fierce

1 Mår' a thon, a plain of Greece, not many miles from Athens, bounded S. by Mount Pentelicus, renowned for the victory of MILTIADES over the army of XERXES, B. c. 490.-2 Leuctra (luk' tra), a maritime village, now called Leftro, in Morea, a peninsula, the S. portion of the kingdom of Greece. - Ay (åe).

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Numidiän lion, even as a boy upon a laughing girl! And he shall pay thee back, until the yellow Tiber is red as frothing wine, and in its deepest ooze thy life-blood lies curdled!

8. "Ye stand here now like giants, as ye are ! The strength of brass is in your toughened sinews; but to-morrow some Ro man Adōnis,' breathing sweet per'fume from his curly-locks, shall with his lily fingers pat your red brawn, and bet his sesterces' upon your blood. Hark! hear ye yon lion roaring in his den? 'Tis three days since he tasted flesh; but to-morrow he shall break his fast upon yours,—and a dainty meal for him ye will be !

9. "If ye are beasts, then stand here like fat oxen, waiting for the butcher's knife! If ye are men,-follow me! Strike down yon guard, gain the mountain passes, and there do bloody work, as did your sires at Old Thermopyla! Is Sparta dead? Is the old Grecian spirit frozen in your veins, that you do crouch and cower like a belabored hound beneath his master's lash? O comrades! warriors! Thracians !-if we must fight, let us fight for ourselves! If we must slaughter, let us slaughter our oppressors! If we must die, let it be under the clear sky, by the bright waters, in noble, honorable battle !"

E. KELLOGG.

185. THE CHARGE OF THE Light BrigADE.

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1 ADO' NIS, in mythology, a youth famed for his beauty, the son of CINYRAS.- S&s' terce, a Roman coin, about four cents.-Thermopyla (ther mop' e le), a famous pass of Greece, about five miles long, and originally from 50 to 60 yards in width. It is hemmed in on one side by precipitous rocks of from 400 to 600 feet in height, and on the other side by the sea and an impassable morass. Here LEONIDAS and his 300 Spartans died in defending Greece against the invasion of XERXES, B. C. 489.— League, a distance of three miles.

2. "Forward, the Light Brigade !"
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not though the soldier knew
Some one had blunder'd:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die,
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

3. Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well;
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell,

Rode the six hundred.

4. Flash'd all their sabers bare,
Flash'd as they turn'd in air,
Sabering the gunners there,
Charging an army, while

All the world wonder'd:

Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right through the line they broke
Cossack and Russian

Reel'd from the saber-stroke,

Shatter'd and sunder'd.

Then they rode back-but not,

Not the six hundred.

5. Cannon to right of them,

Cannon to left of them,

Cannon behind them

Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,

While horse and hero fell,

They that had fought so well

Came through the jaws of Death,

Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them-
Left of six hundred.

6. When can their glory fade?
Oh, the wild charge they made!
All the world wonder'd.
Honor the charge they made!
Honor the Light Brigade,

Noble six hundred !

ALFRED TENNYSON.

1.

186. RING OUT, WILD BELLS.
ING out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light;
The year is dying in the night:
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.
2 Ring out the old, ring in the new,

Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going-let him go:
Ring out the false, ring in the true.
8. Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
For those that here we see no more;
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.

4. Ring out a slowly dying cause,

And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.
5. Ring out the want, the care, the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;

Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,

But ring the fuller minstrel in.

6. Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;

Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.

7. Ring out old shapes of foul disease,

Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.
8. Ring in the valiant man and free,

The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.

ALFRED TENNYSON.

187. THE TWO ARMIES.

1. AS Life's unending column pours,

Two marshal'd hōsts are seen,—
Two armies on the trampled shōres
That Death flows black between.

2. One marches to the drum-beat's roll,
The wide-mouth'd clărion's' bray,
And bears upon the crimson scrōll—
"OUR GLORY IS TO SLAY."

3. One moves in silence by the stream,
With sad, yet watchful eyes,
Calm as the patient planet's gleam
That walks the clouded skies.

4. Along its front no sabers shine,
No blood-red pennons wave;
Its banner bears the single line,
"OUR DUTY IS TO SAVE."

5. For those no death-bed's lingering shade;
At Honor's trumpet-call,

With knitted brows and lifted blade,
In Glōry's arms they fall.

6. For these no clashing falchions' bright,
No stirring battle-cry;

1 Clarion (klår' e on), a kind of trumpet, of a shrill, clear tone. • Falchion (fal' chun), a short, crooked sword.