With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord.- Wolsey. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Love thyself last cherish those hearts that hate thee: Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues: be just, and fear not. Thy God's, and truth's: then, if thou fall'st, O Crom- Thou fall'st a blessed martyr. Serve the king; and,-Pr'ythee, lead me in: There take an inventory of all I have, To the last penny; 'tis the king's: my robe, And my integrity to heaven, is all I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell! Had but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies. Cromwell. Good sir, have patience. Wolsey. So I have. Farewell The hopes of court: my hopes in heaven do dwell. i [Exeunt.] C.-OUR COUNTRY'S CALL. WILLIAM C. BRYANT. 1. Lay down the ax, fling by the spade : For arms like yours were fitter now; 2. Our country calls; away! away! To where the blood-stream blots the green. Strike to defend the gentlest sway That Time in all his course has seen. See, from a thousand coverts-see Spring the armed foes that haunt her track 3. Ho! sturdy as the oaks ye cleave, And moved as soon to fear and flight, His serried ranks shall reel before 4. And ye who breast the mountain storm A bulwark that no foe can break. As rushing squadrons bear ye thence. 5. And ye whose homes are by her grand Come from the depth of her green land Have swelled them over bank and bourne, 6. And ye who throng, beside the deep, On his long murmuring marge of sand, 7. Few, few were they whose swords of old The grim resolve to guard it well. Blow after blow, till men shall see QUESTIONS.-Is this a descriptive, a narrative, or a pathetic poem? If it is none of these, how will you describe it? Tell exactly how it ought to be read,―with what pitch, force, volume, and quality of voice. First Stanza. Who are called upon to "lay [This poem was written in 1861.] down the ax"? Why? Why is the plow called "the toiling plow"? Why are "the rifle and the bayonetblade" fitter for the arms of these men "now"? What is "the horseman's crooked brand"? Second Stanza. What is meant by "the gentlest sway that Time in all his course has seen"? Whose "track" is meant in the sixth line? Third Stanza. Who are addressed in this stanza? What is meant by the word "glade"? Explain the fifth and sixth lines. What is an "iron tempest"? Meaning of " serried"? Sixth Stanza. To whom is this stanza addressed? What are "hamlets of the strand"? Whose "ports and hamlets" are meant in the second line? Seventh Stanza. Who are alluded to in the first line? What does this piece teach? Is the lesson a good one? CI.-A RILL FROM THE TOWN PUMP. NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 1. Noon, by the north clock! Noon, by the east! High noon, too, by these hot sunbeams, which fall, scarcely aslope, upon my head, and almost make the water bubble and smoke, in the trough under my nose. Truly we public characters have a tough time of it! And, among all the town officers, chosen at March meeting, where is he that sustains, for a single year, the burden of such manifold duties as are imposed, in perpetuity, upon the Town Pump. 2. The title of " town treasurer" is rightfully mine, as guardian of the best treasure that the town has. The overseers of the poor ought to make me their chairman, since I provide bountifully for the pauper, without expense to him that pays taxes. I am at the head of the fire department, and one of the physicians to the board of health. As a keeper of the peace, all water drinkers will confess me equal to the constable. I perform some of the duties of the townclerk, by promulgating public notices, when they are posted on my front. 3. To speak within bounds, I am the chief person of the municipality, and exhibit, moreover, an admirable pattern to my brother officers, by the cool, steady, upright, downright, and impartial discharge of my business, and the constancy with which I stand to my post. Summer or winter, nobody seeks me in vain; for, all day long, I am seen at the busiest corner, just above the market, stretching out my arms to rich and poor alike; and at night, I hold a lantern over my head, both to show where I am, and keep people out of the gutters. 4. At the sultry noontide, I am cupbearer to the parched populace, for whose benefit an iron goblet is chained to my waist. Like a dram-seller on the mall,* at muster day, I cry aloud to all and sundry, in my plainest accents, and at the very tiptop of my voice. Here it is, gentlemen! Here is the good liquor! Walk up, walk up, gentlemen, walk up, walk up! Here is the superior stuff! Here is the unadulterated ale of father Adam-better than Cognac, Hollands, Jamaica, strong beer, or wine of any price; here it is, by the hogshead or the single glass, and not a cent to pay! Walk up, gentlemen, walk up, and help yourselves! 5. It were a pity, if all this outcry should draw no customers. Here they come. A hot day, gentlemen! Quaff, and away again, so as to keep yourselves in a nice cool sweat. You, my friend, will need another cupful, to wash the dust out of your throat, if it be as thick there as it is on your cowhide shoes. I see that you have trudged half a score of miles to-day; and, like a wise man, have passed by the taverns, and stopped at the running brooks and well curbs. Otherwise, betwixt heat without and fire within, you would have been burned to a cinder, or melted down to nothing at all, in the fashion of a jelly fish. Drink, and make room for that other fellow, who seeks my aid to quench the fiery fever of last night's potations, which he drained from no cup of mine. * A public enclosure shaded by trees, and used (in Salem, Mass.) for public gatherings. |