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From all the batteries of the Tower pealed loud
the voice of fear; And all the thousand masts of Thames sent back
a louder cheer : And from the furthest wards was heard the rush
of hurrying feet, And the broad streams of pikes and flags rushed
down each roaring street; And broader still became the blaze, and louder still
the din, As fast from every village round the horse came
spurring in : And eastward straight, from wild Blackheath, the
warlike errand went, And roused in many an ancient hall the gallant
squires of Kent. Southward from Surrey's pleasant hills flew those
bright couriers forth; High on bleak Hampstead's swarthy moor they
started for the north ; And on, and on, without a pause, untired they
bounded still : All night from tower to tower they sprang ; they
sprang from hill to hill: Till the proud Peak unfurled the flag o'er Darwin's
rocky dales, Till like volcanoes flared to heaven the stormy
hills of Wales; Till twelve fair counties saw the blaze on Malvern's
lonely height, Till streamed in crimson on the wind the Wrekin's
crest of light; Till broad and fierce the star came forth on Ely's
stately fane, And tower and hamlet rose in arms o'er all the
boundless plain ;
Till Belvoir's lordly terraces the sign to Lincoln
sent, And Lincoln sped the message on o'er the wide
vale of Trent; Till Skiddaw saw the fire that burned on Gaunt's
embattled pile, And the red glare on Skiddaw roused the burghers
TO A MOUSE.-(Burns.)
Wi' bickering brattle ! 1
Wi' murd'rin' prattle!
Which makes thee startle
I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve;
'S a sma' request;
An' never miss't.
2 An occasional ear of corn.
Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin !
O’ foggagel green!
Baith snell? and keen !
Thou saw the fields laid bare and waste,
Thou thought ta dwell,
Out through thy cell.
But house or hald,
And cranreuch 4 cauld !
Gang aft a-gley,
For promis'd joy.
On prospects drear !
I guess an' fear.
1 Stray vegetable materials. 4 Hoar-frost.
3 Endure. 6 Awry.
LOVE AND AGE.-(Thomas L. Peacock.) I play'd with you 'mid cowslips blowing,
When I was six and you were four; When garlands weaving, flower-balls throwing,
Were pleasures soon to please no more. Thro' groves and meads, o'er grass and heather,
With little playmates, to and fro, We wander'd hand in hand together ;
But that was sixty years ago. You grew a lovely roseate maiden,
And still our early love was strong ; Still with no care our days were laden,
They glided joyously along;
How dearly, words want power to show ;
But that was fifty years ago.
Your beauty grew from year to year,
The centre of its glittering sphere. I saw you then, first vows forsaking,
On rank and wealth your hand bestow ; Oh, then, I thought my heart was breaking
But that was forty years ago. And I lived on, to wed another :
No cause she gave me to repine;
I did not wish the children mine.
Made up a pleasant Christmas row :
But that was thirty years ago.
You grew a matron plump and comely,
You dwelt in fashion's brightest blaze ;
But I too had my festal days.
Around the hearth-stone's wintry glow, Then when my youngest child was christen'd:
But that was twenty years ago.
And I am now a grandsire grey ;
Among the wild flower'd meads to play In our old fields of childish pleasure,
Where now, as then, the cowslips blow, She fills her basket's ample measure
And that is not ten years ago.
Has pass'd away in colder light,
And shall do, till our last good-night ;
Will bring a time we shall not know, When our young days of gathering flowers
Will be an hundred years ago.