As his prisoner there he kept her,

In his hands her life did lie;

Cupid's bands did tie them faster

By the liking of an eye;

In his courteous company was all her joy,

To favour him in any thing she was not coy.

At the last there came commandment

For to set the ladies free,

With their jewels still adorned,

None to do them injury:

IO

15

"Alas!" then said this lady mild, "full woe is me;

O let me still sustain this kind captivity!

"O gallant captain, show some pity

To a lady in distress;

Leave me not within the city,

For to die in heaviness;

Thou hast set this present day my body free,

20

But my heart in prison strong remains with thee.”

"How should'st thou, fair lady, love me, Whom thou know'st thy country's foe?

Thy fair words make me suspect thee;

Serpents are where flowers grow."

25

"All the evil I think to thee, most gracious knight, God grant upon myself the same may fully light: 30

"Blessed be the time and season

That you came on Spanish ground;

If you may our foes be termed,

Gentle foes we have you found.

With our city you have won our hearts each one;

Then to your country bear away that is your own."

66 Rest you still, most gallant lady,

Rest you still, and weep no more;

Of fair lovers there are plenty ;

37

"Leave me not unto a Spaniard ;

You alone enjoy my heart;

I am lovely, young, and tender,

And so love is my desert.

45

Still to serve thee day and night my mind is press'd; The wife of every English man is counted blest."

"It would be a shame, fair lady,

For to bear a woman hence;

English soldiers never carry

Any such without offence."

"I will quickly change myself if it be so,

50

And like a page I'll follow thee where'er thou go."

"I have neither gold nor silver

To maintain thee in this case,

And to travel, is great charges,

66

As you know, in every place.”

55

My chains and jewels everyone shall be thine own, And eke five hundred pounds in gold that lies

unknown."

"On the seas are many dangers;

Many storms do there arise, Which will be to ladies dreadful,

And force tears from watery eyes."

"Well in truth I shall endure extremity,

For I could find in heart to lose my life for thee."

"Courteous lady, be contented;

Here comes all that breeds the strife;

I in England have already

A sweet woman to my wife :

I will not falsify my vow for gold or gain,

60

65

70

Nor yet for all the fairest dames that live in Spain."

"Oh how happy is that woman,

That enjoys so true a friend!

Many days of joy God send you!

Of my suit I'll make an end :

On my knees I pardon crave for this offence,

75

Which did from love and true affection first

commence.

"Commend me to thy loving lady:

Bear to her this chain of gold,

And these bracelets for a token;

Grieving that I was so bold.

All my jewels in like sort bear thou with thee,

For they are fitting for thy wife, but not for me."

But ere my prayers have an end, be sure of this, To pray for thee and for thy love I will not miss.

“Thus farewell, most gentle captain,

Farewell too my heart's content!

Count not Spanish ladies wanton,

Though to thee my love was bent :

Joy and true prosperity go still with thee !"

66 The like fall ever to thy share, most fair lady."

Old Ballad.

TO A WATERFOWL.

80

85

91

95

WHITHER, 'midst falling dew,

While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue

Thy solitary way?

Vainly the fowler's eye

Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong,
As, darkly painted on the crimson sky

Thy figure floats along.

Seek'st thou the plashy brink

5

Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide,

ΙΟ

Or where the rocking billows rise and sink
On the chafed ocean side?

There is a Power whose care

Teaches thy way along that pathless coast,
The desert and illimitable air,-

Lone wandering but not lost.

All day thy wings have fann'd,

At that far height the cold thin atmosphere,
Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land,
Though the dark night is near.

And soon that toil shall end;

Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest And scream among thy fellows; reeds shall bend Soon o'er thy shelter'd nest.

Thou'rt gone, the abyss of heaven

Hath swallow'd up thy form: yet on my heart
Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given,

And shall not soon depart.

He, who from zone to zone

15

20

25

Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, In the long way that I must tread alone,

Will lead my steps aright,

31

W. C. BRYANT.

THE CHARGE OF THE SIX HUNDRED.

FORTH six hundred horsemen go,
Flash their sabres keen and bright;
On their plumes the sunbeams glow,
On their face the battle's light :
Loud the clarion trumpets sound,
Thunder shakes the echoing ground.

5

1 This refers to the famous charge of the Light Cavalry Brigade at Balaclava in the Crimea. A mistake was made in conveying the general's order to the commander of the Light Brigade, which caused 600 horsemen to charge the Russian army, though they knew that their destruction was almost certain.

Wherefore ride they none can tell ;
Who the blundering order gave :
Pity they who ride so well,
Ride but to a bootless grave;
Fearless-reckless, on they go :
Watchful wait the wondering foe.

Forth the deadly lightnings flash,

ΙΟ

Forth the bellowing thunders roar ;

Through their ranks the death-bolts crash;

15

Down they go-behind-before,

Rolling on the bloody plain,

Ne'er to charge or cheer again.

Forward still !-the dead may stay.
On the living yet must speed!
Pause not in the fiery way,

Nations watch your desperate deed :
Quench the madness of the story
In the brightness of its glory.

Down the jaws of death they ride :
Trails behind a gory track :

On they go-still side by side,
Forward ever-none look back:

Burns one thought in every breast,

20

25

To reach the foe ;-please Heaven the rest. 30

Cease the guns; and clear and high

Above the strife and clang of war,
Hark! I hear their battle-cry
Ringing o'er the field afar ;

Thanks to Heaven, there live some yet
To pay their comrades' bloody debt.

See the avenging blades are flashing,
Up and down the lightnings gleam,
Horse and horseman wildly dashing,
Toss'd like foaming billows seem :
On our ear, like muffled drum,

35

40

Swells the distant battle-hum.