BUGLE SONG. "ENNYSON.) The splendor falls on castle walls And snowy summits old and story; The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow; set the wild echoes flying: Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O hark, O hear! how thin and clear, The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! O love, they die in yon rich sky, Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, INVOCATION TO THE NEW YEAR. (TENNYSON.) Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring out the grief that saps the mind, Ring out a slowly dying cause, Ring out the want, the care, the sin, Ring out false pride in place and blood, Ring out old shapes of foul disease, Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand; Ring out the darkness of the land, Ring in the Christ that is to be. THE DREAM OF EUGENE ARAM. (THOMAS HOOD.) 'Twas in the prime of summer time, There were some that ran and some that leapt, Away they sped, with gamesome minds, To a level mead they came, and there Like sportive deer they coursed about, But the Usher sat remote from all, His hat was off, his vest apart, To catch heaven's blessed breeze; For a burning thought was in his brow, And his bosom ill at ease: So he lean'd his head on his hands, and read The book between his knees! Leaf after leaf he turn'd it o'er, Nor ever glanced aside, For the peace of his soul he read that book In the golden eventide : Much study had made him very lean, And pale, and leaden-eyed. At last he shut the ponderous tome, Then leaping on his feet upright, Now up the mead, then down the mead, And past a shady nook, And, lo! he saw a little boy That pored upon a book! "My gentle lad, what is't you readRomance or fairy fable? Or is it some historic page, Of kings and crowns unstable?" The young boy gave an upward glance,"It is The Death of Abel.'" The Usher took six hasty strides, And down he sat beside the lad, And, long since then, of bloody men And how the sprites of injured men And unknown facts of guilty acts He told how murderers walked the earth With crimson clouds before their eyes, And flames about their brain : For blood has left upon their souls Its everlasting stain! "And well," quoth he, "I know, for truth, Their pangs must be extreme, Woe, woe, unutterable woe,— Who spill life's sacred stream! For why? Methought, last night, I wrought A murder in a dream! "One that had never done me wrong— A feeble man and old; I led him to a lonely field, The moon shone clear and cold: 'Now here,' said I, 'this man shall die, And I will have his gold!' "Two sudden blows with ragged stick, And one with a heavy stone, One hurried gash with a hasty knife,- "Nothing but lifeless flesh and bone, And yet I fear'd him all the more, "And, lo! the universal air Seem'd lit with ghastly flame:-— "O, God! it made me quake to see "My head was like an ardent coal, My wretched, wretched soul, I knew, A dozen times I groan'd; the dead |