Tell. To die? For what?

Ges. For having braved my power, as thou hast. Lead Them forth.

Tell. He's but a child.

Ges. Away with them!

Tell. Perhaps an only child.

Ges. No matter.

Tell. He may have a mother.

Ges. So the viper hath;

And yet, who spares it for the mother's sake?
Tell. I talk to stone. I talk to it as though
"Twere flesh; and know 'tis none. I'll talk to it
No more. Come, my boy!

I taught thee how to live-I'll show thee how to die.

1 U-ŞÜRP'ER. One who seizes that to
which he has no right.

2 COME'LI-NESS. Grace; beauty.
8 CON'SCIOUS-NESS. The perception
of one's own thoughts and feelings.
4 XV'A-LÄNCHE. A vast body of snow,
ice, or earth sliding down the side
of a mountain.

6 VENGEANCE. Punishment in re-
taliation for an injury.

7 FLEDGLING. A young bird.
8 REC-OG-NI'TION. Act of knowing
again; acknowledgment.

9 PRE-CON-CERT'ED. Arranged be
forehand.

10 CAITIFF. A villain; a knave.

• VÖÛCH-SĀFE'. Condescend to grant 11 HEADŞ'MẠN. One who beheads.

[Mrs. Lydia H. Sigourney was an American lady, who wrote a variety of works in prose and verse. She was born September 1, 1791, and died June 10, 1865. She resided for many years in Hartford, Connecticut.

The steamboat Atlantic, plying between Norwich, in Connecticut, and New York, was wrecked on an island near New London. Many of the passengers were on their way to join in the celebration of the annual Thanksgiving in New England. The bell of this boat, supported by a portion of the wreck, continued for many days and nights to toll as if in mournful requiem of the lost.]

1. TOLL, toll, toll,

Thou bell by billows swung;

And, night and day, thy warning words
Repeat with mournful tongue!

Toll for the queenly boat,
Wrecked on yon rocky shore!
Sea-weed is in her palace halls;
She rides the surge no more.

2. Toll for the master bold,

The high-souled and the brave,
Who ruled her like a thing of life
Amid the crested wave!

Toll for the hardy crew,

Sons of the storm and blast, Who long the tyrant ocean dared; But it vanquished them at last.

3. Toll for the man of God,

Whose hallowed voice of prayer
Rose calm above the stifled groan
Of that intense despair!
How precious were those tones
On that sad verge of life,

Amid the fierce and freezing storm,
And the mountain billows' strife!

4. Toll for the lover lost

To the summoned bridal train!
Bright glows a picture on his breast,
Beneath th' unfathomed main.
One from her casement gazeth
Long o'er the misty sea:
He cometh not, pale maiden —
His heart is cold to thee.

5. Toll for the absent sire,

Who to his home drew near,
To bless a glad expecting group-
Fond wife and children dear!

They heap the blazing hearth;

The festal board is spread;

But a fearful guest is at the gate:
Room for the pallid dead!

6. Toll for the loved and fair,

The whelmed beneath the tide -
The broken harps around whose strings
The dull sea-monsters glide!
Mother and nursling sweet,

Reft' from the household throng;
There's bitter weeping in the nest
Where breathed their soul of song.

7. Toll for the hearts that bleed
'Neath misery's furrowing trace!
Toll for the hapless orphan left,
The last of all his race!
Yea, with thy heaviest knell,
From surge to rocky shore,
Toll for the living, —not the dead,
Whose mortal woes are o'er!

8. Toll, toll, toll,

O'er breeze and billow free,

2

And with thy startling lore instruct

Each rover of the sea:

Tell how o'er proudest joys

May swift destruction sweep,

And bid him build his hopes on high –

Lone teacher of the deep.

I REFT Taken away by violence. | 2 LŌRE. Instruction; discipline

1. THE feast is o'er! Now brimming' wine In lordly cup is seen to shine

Before each eager guest;

And silence fills the crowded hall

2. Then up arose the noble host,

And smiling cried, "A toast! a toast!

To all our ladies fair!

Here, before all, I pledge the name

Of Staunton's proud and beauteous dame
The Lady Gundamere."

3. Then to his feet each gallant sprung, And joyous was the shout that rung, As Stanley gave the word;

And every cup was raised on high,
Nor ceased the loud and gladsome cry,
Till Stanley's voice was heard.

4. "Enough, enough," he smiling said,
And lowly bent his haughty head;
"That all may have their due,
Now each, in turn, must play his part,
And pledge the lady of his heart,
Like gallant knight' and true."

6. Then, one by one, each guest sprang up, And drained in turn the brimming cup, And named the loved one's name;

And each, as hand on high he raised,
His lady's grace or beauty praised,
Her constancy and fame.

6. 'Tis now St. Leon's turn to rise ;
On him are fixed those countless eyes:
A gallant knight is he;

Envied by some, admired by all,
Far famed in lady's bower and hall
The flower of chivalry.*

7. St. Leon raised his kindling eye,
And lifts the sparkling cup on high:
"I drink to one," he said,
"Whose image never may depart,
Deep graven on this grateful heart,
Till memory be dead;-

8. "To one whose love for me shall last When lighter passions long have pastSo holy 'tis and true;

To one whose love hath longer dwelt,
More deeply fixed, more keenly felt,
Than any pledged by you."

9. Each guest upstarted at the word, And laid a hand upon his sword, With fury-flashing eye;

6

And Stanley said, "We crave the name,
Proud knight, of this most peerless dame,
Whose love you count so high."

10. St. Leon paused, as if he would
Not breathe her name in careless mood,
Thus lightly, to another;