She heard and weptShe wept, to wear a crown! They decked her courtly halls; They reined her hundred steeds; Her name has stirred the mountain's sleep, Who wept to wear a crown! She saw no purples shine, For tears had dimmed her eyes; She only knew her childhood's flowers And while her heralds played their part Those million shouts to drown"God save the Queen !" from hill to martShe heard through all her beating heart, And turned and weptShe wept to wear a crown! God save thee, weeping Queen! God bless thee, weeping Queen, With blessing more divine! And fill with happier love than earth's, That when the thrones of earth shall be To wear that heavenly crown! ELIZABETH BROWNING. RULE, BRITANNIA. WHEN Britain first, at Heaven's command, This was the charter of the land, 66 Rule, Britannia, rule the waves— The nations not so bless'd as thee, Still more majestic shalt thou rise, Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame: To thee belongs the rural reign; Thy cities shall with commerce shine; The Muses, still with freedom found, Blest isle! with matchless beauty crowned, And manly hearts to guard the fair : 66 Rule, Britannia, rule the waves- THOMSON. THE TWO APRIL MORNINGS. WE walked along, while bright and red And Matthew stopped, he looked, and said, "The will of God be done." A village schoolmaster was he, And on that morning, through the grass We travelled merrily, to pass 'Our work," said I, "was well begun ; Then, from thy breast what thought, Beneath so beautiful a sun, So sad a sigh has brought ?" A second time did Matthew stop; "Yon cloud with that long purple cleft A day like this, which I have left And just above yon slope of corn Such colours, and no other, Were in the sky that April morn, With rod and line I sued the sport And coming to the church, stopped short Nine summers had she scarcely seen, And then she sang;-she would have been Six feet in earth my Emma lay; And turning from her grave, I met, A basket on her head she bare; Her brow was smooth and white : To see a child so very fair, It was a pure delight. No fountain from its rocky cave There came from me a sigh of pain I looked at her, and looked again- Matthew is in his grave, yet now As at that moment, with a bough WORDSWORTH, THE FOUNTAIN. We talked with open heart, and tongue Affectionate and true, A pair of friends, though I was young, And Matthew seventy-two. We lay beneath a spreading oak, Beside a mossy seat; And from the turf a fountain broke, And gurgled at our feet. "Now, Matthew," said I, "let us match This water's pleasant tune, With some old Border song or catch, Or of the church-clock and the chimes In silence Matthew lay, and eyed 66 No check, no stay, this streamlet fears; How merrily it goes! "Twill murmur on a thousand years, And flow as now it flows. And here, on this delightful day, My eyes are dim with childish tears, |