And he lifted high his brawny hand

On the iron glowing clear,

Till the sparks rushed out in scarlet showers,
As he fashioned the sword and the spear.
And he sang: "Hurrah for my handiwork!
Hurrah for the spear and the sword!

Hurrah for the hand that shall wield them well,
For he shall be king and lord."

To Tubal Cain came many a one,

As he wrought by his roaring fire,

And each one prayed for a strong steel blade
As the crown of his desire :
And he made them weapons sharp and strong,
Till they shouted loud for glee,
And gave him gifts of pearl and gold,
And spoils of the forest free.
And they sang: "Hurrah for Tubal Cain,
Who hath given us strength anew!
Hurrah for the smith, hurrah for the fire,
And hurrah for the metal true!"

But a sudden change came o'er his heart,
Ere the setting of the sun,

And Tubal Cain was filled with pain
For the evil he had done;

He saw that men, with rage and hate,

Made war upon their kind,

That the land was red with the blood they shed,
In their lust for carnage blind.
And he said: "Alas! that ever I made,
Or that skill of mine should plan,

The spear and the sword for men whose joy
Is to slay their fellow-man!"

And for many a day old Tubal Cain
Sat brooding o'er his woe;

And his hand forebore to smite the ore,
And his furnace smoldered low.
But he rose at last with a cheerful face,
And a bright courageous eye,
And bared his strong right arm for work,
While the quick flames mounted high.
And he sang:
"Hurrah for my handiwork!"

And the red sparks lit the air;

"Not alone for the blade was the bright steel

made,"

And he fashioned the first plowshare.

And men, taught wisdom from the past,
In friendship joined their hands,

Hung the sword in the hall, the spear on the wall,
And plowed the willing lands;

And sang: "Hurrah for Tubal Cain !

Our stanch good friend is he;

And for the plowshare and the plow
To him our praise shall be.

But while oppression lifts its head,
Or a tyrant would be lord,
Though we may thank him for the plow,
We'll not forget the sword!"

CHARLES MACKAY.

THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM.

[The battle of Blenheim in Bavaria was fought August 13, 1704. between the troops of the English and Austrians on one side, under the Duke of Mariborough and Prince Eugene, and the French and Bavarians on the other side, led by Marshal Tallart and the Elector of Bavaria. The latter party was defeated, and the schemes of Louis XIV, of France were materially checked thereby ]

It was a summer evening,

Old Kaspar's work was done, And he before his cottage door

Was sitting in the sun; And by him sported on the green His little grandchild Wilhelmine.

She saw her brother Peterkin

Roll something large and round, Which he beside the rivulet,

In playing there, had found; He came to ask what he had found That was so large and smooth and round.

Old Kaspar took it from the boy,
Who stood expectant by;

And then the old man shook his head,

And, with a natural sigh,

""T is some poor fellow's skull," said he, "Who fell in the great victory.

"I find them in the garden,

For there's many hereabout; And often, when I go to plow,

The plowshare turns them out; For many thousand men," said he, "Were slain in the great victory."

"Now tell us what 't was all about," Young Peterkin he cries; And little Wilhelmine looks up With wonder-waiting eyes, "Now tell us all about the war, And what they fought each other for."

"It was the English," Kaspar cried, "Who put the French to rout; But what they fought each other for I could not well make out; But everybody said," quoth he, "That 't was a famous victory.

"My father lived at Blenheim then, Yon little stream hard by;