With slow and steady step there came a Lady through the hall, And breathless silence chained the lips, and touched the hearts of all.

I knew that queenly form again, though blighted was its bloom,

I saw that grief had decked it out-an offering for the tomb! I knew the eye, though faint its light, that once so brightly shone;

I knew the voice, though feeble now, that thrilled with every

tone;

I knew the ringlets, almost gray, once threads of living gold;
I knew that bounding grace of step-that symmetry of mould!
Even now I see her far away, in that calm convent aisle,
I hear her chant her vesper hymn, I mark her holy smile,—
Even now I see her bursting forth, upon the bridal morn,
A new star in the firmament, to light and glory born!
Alas! the change !—she placed her foot upon a triple throne,
And on the scaffold now she stands-beside the block -ALONE!
The little dog that licks her hand—the last of all the crowd
Who sunned themselves beneath her glance, and round her
footsteps bowed!

-Her neck is bared-the blow is struck-the soul is passed away!

The bright-the beautiful-is now a bleeding piece of clay! The dog is moaning piteously; and, as it gurgles o'er,

Laps the warm blood that trickling runs unheeded to the floor! The blood of beauty, wealth, and power-the heart-blood of a queen

The noblest of the Stuart race- -the fairest earth has seen,Lapped by a dog!—a solemn text!—Go, think of it alone; Then weigh, against a grain of sand, the glories of a throne!

The Last Shot:

A TALE OF THE INDIAN MUTINY.

Three to ride and to save, one to ride and be saved—
That's the key of my tale, boys, deep on my heart engraved.

With death before and behind, through dangers many and nigh,

Four to ride together, and three of the four to die.

There was the Captain's daughter, a young and delicate girl, With her childlike face and shining eyes, and hair of sunniest curl;

She looked like a beautiful flower, too slight to be even caressed,

Yet never had hero braver heart than beat in that girlish breast.
And then there was Sergeant Gray, a martinet old and grim;
The biggest tyrant that ever lived was a lamb compared to him;
Ne'er-dae-weel Douglas next, a Borderer born and bred,
With a sin on his soul for every hair that grew on his handsome
head.

And then there was Fighting Denis-Denis, the stout of heart, Foremost in every row and brawl, and skilled in the "manly art;"

Take the three altogether, the truth is, old and young,

They were three o' the greatest scamps, boys, that ever deserved to be hung.

What was she doing, you ask, alone with fellows like these,
Down by the Ganges' bank, hid 'mong the mango trees?
Well, she couldn't help herself, could only wait and pray,
And they they were doing their duty as well as they knew

the way.

Slowly the red moon rose, and then the sergeant spoke"Pat, look to the horses' girths; Graham, give the lady this cloak.

Now, miss, be your father's daughter, our lads are close below, The horses are fresh, the road is clear, and we've only five miles to go."

Then spoke the Captain's daughter, and her voice was weak but clear

"I want you to promise, brave friends, while we're together here,

That you'll keep the last shot for me--when each heart of hope despairs;

Better to die by hands like yours than be left alive in theirs."

The sergeant cleared his throat, and turned his face away; Denis, the stout of heart, had never a word to say;

And Douglas grasped his hilt with a look and gesture grim, While he looked on the face o' the girl with eyes grown suddenly blurred and dim.

“Oh, you'll promise me, will you not?" the weak voice pleaded again,

“You will not leave me to them-you-soldiers- my father's men?

For the sake of my mother in Heaven—and God and death so

near

Oh, father, father, you would, I know, if only you were here." "I promise." "And I." "And I." The voices were hoarse

and low,

And each man prayed, I ween, that the task he might not know,

As out on the plain they rode swiftly and silently-
Four to ride together, and three o' the four to die.

The sergeant's charger led with a long and raking stride,
And her Arab's lighter bound kept the lady by his side,
While hanging on either flank, the watchers, steady and strong,
Swept on through the clouds of dust that rose as the leaders
hastened along.

Fire to the right and left, fire in front and rear,

As the dusky demons broke from their lurking ambush near. "Noo, Denis, boot tae boot-keep close between, ye twa— We've cut her a way through waur than this, an'—"Charge!" 66 'Hurroo!" Hurrah!"

As the lightning cleaves the cloud, as the tempest rends the oak,
The comrades' headlong rush the gathering miscreants broke;
Unharmed through the yelling horde the Captain's daughter
fled,

While thick and fast in fierce pursuit the Sirdar's horsemen sped,
Up on the crest o' the rise where Cawnpore's curse of blood
Hushes with horror yet the wide and rolling flood,
Douglas reeled in his saddle, and whispered brokenly—
"Gray, dinna let her ken, but it's near a' ower wi' me."

"Hit?" "Ay, here in the side." "Bad?" "Ay, bad, but a—h! I'll face yon hounds on the brae, it may gain ye a minute or

Tak'

twa

my horse-ye may need it for her. Steady, there!—woa, there, Gem!

Dinna forget your promise-yon lassie's no for them."

An iron grip o' the hands-mist o'er the sergeant's sight,
As he swiftly wheeled the horses, and vanished in the night;
Then round to the nearing foe, under the starry sky,

Alone with his God and his own brave heart, Grahame Douglas turned to die.

On came Hamed, the boastful-who so sure as he,

With his Siva-charmed sword, keen-edged, against the Feringhee ?

Woe for Hamed, the boastful! woe the mistake he made, When he matched his sword 'gainst a Border arm and the sweep of a Border blade!

Then fighting it, thrust for thrust, and fighting it, blow for blow, Till at last, where the bank fell sheer to the dusky stream

below,

He fell a groan-a plunge-wave circles eddying wideAnd the ne'er-dae-weel was still at last 'neath the river's turbid tide.

On and over all,-over nullah and stream;

On, where the serpents hiss, where the leopards' eyeballs gleam; On and on like the wind, faster and faster yet,

While the iron fingers clutch the hilt, and the grinding teeth

are set.

"Stretch to it, gallant Selim! leap to it, Ned and Dan! Well done, brave brutes! Hurrah! Let them catch us now who can!"

On and on for life-for a higher, dearer stake—

For true men's chivalry-for a helpless woman's sake!

A splutter of fire on the right, a flame of fire in the rear,
And Gem leaped up and fell--another, and all too near
The hissing bullets came, and then the sergeant knew
His blood and life were ebbing away with every breath he drew,

Sore and deep the wound, but never a moan he made, And, rising up in his saddle, erect as when on parade"Pat, if you get in, report that Douglas and I are dead ; Tell them we did our duty, and mind—your promise," he said. The maiden checked her horse with a quick, wild scream of pain

"O Heaven, have pity!" she sobbed, as Denis seized her rein. Then giving his last command-"Ride on !" with impatient frown,

True British soldier to the last, the brave old man went down.

Oh, pale the maiden's face, but her brow was calm and clear,
Though never had woman yet such awful cause for fear;
And Denis, the stout of heart, in his saddle turned to rise,
With the lurid glare of maddened rage in his kindly Irish eyes.
Swiftly he aimed and fired-every shot was sure,

And fierce the yells that hailed the fall of each dusky blackamoor,

Till sudden the maiden's voice came shrill in agony

“Oh, Denis, brave Denis, you promised you would keep the last for me!"

Was that the glint of steel that flashed from yonder wood?
Rose there hoarse commands in voices stern and rude?
"On, on-O God! so near-so near, and to fail at last!
On, on—in vain—our brave brutes fail us-hope is past!"
Oh, pale was the maiden's face, and her white lips moved in

prayer;

Then with never a sign of fear, for the hero soul was there;
With the Virgin martyr's glory lighting her bonny brow,
She laid her hand on Denis' arm, and gently whispered, “Now!"
The strong man shook 'neath the touch of those tiny finger-tips,
And "Say you forgive me, Miss," broke hoarse from his ashen
lips.

"Forgive you! Again and again! You see I do not fear! God bless you, gallant soldier! Now, straight and sure-aim here!"

She laid one hand on her heart, then clasped them o'er her head, And into the darkened sky her latest look she sped ;

K