At last, when care had banish'd sleep, He hid it in a cave, and wrought Oh, dear me! 'twas a thing beyond For ploughing in the salt sea field, From neighbouring woods he interlaced A French guard caught him on the beach, Till tidings of him chanced to reach Napoleon's hearing. *ARGO.-A fabled ship, in which, it is said, the Argonauts, under Jason, made an expedition in search of the Golden Fleece. With folded arms Napoleon stood, Serene alike in peace and danger, Address'd the stranger. "Rash youth, that wouldst yon channel pass On twigs and staves so rudely fashion'd, Thy heart with some sweet English lass Must be impassion'd." "I have no sweetheart," said the lad; 66 But, absent years from one another, Great was the longing that I had To see my mother." "And so thou shalt," Napoleon said, He gave the tar a piece of gold, Our sailor oft could scantly shift But never changed the coin and gift Of Buonaparte. ང་ Lord Allin's Daughter. CHIEFTAIN to the Highlands bound, Cries, "Boatman, do not tarry! And I'll give thee a silver pound To row us o'er the ferry." "Now who be ye would cross Loch-Gyle, This dark and stormy water?" "Oh, I'm the chief of Ulva's Isle, And this Lord Ullin's daughter. "And fast before her father's men Three days we've fled together; For should he find us in the glen, My blood would stain the heather; "His horsemen hard behind us ride; "I'll Out spoke the hardy Highland wight, But for your winsome lady : "And, by my word! the bonny bird In danger shall not tarry; So, though the waves are raging white, I'll row you o'er the ferry." By this the storm grew loud арасе, The water-wraith was shrieking; And, in the scowl of heaven, each face Grew dark as they were speaking. But still as wilder blew the wind, "O haste thee, haste!" the lady cries, "Though tempests round us gather, I'll meet the raging of the skies, But not an angry father." The boat has left a stormy land, When, oh! too strong for human hand, And still they rowed, amidst the roar Lord Ullin reached that fatal shore His wrath was changed to wailing For sore dismayed, through storm and shade, His child he did discover! One lovely arm was stretched for aid, And one was round her lover. "Come back! come back!" he cried in grief, "Across this stormy water; And I'll forgive your Highland chief- 'Twas vain: the loud waves lashed the shore, Return or aid preventing: The waters wild went o'er his child- The Battle of Hohenlinden." N Linden, when the sun was low, Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night, 'The darkness of her scenery. * HOHENLINDEN.-A village in Bavaria, where the French, under Moreau, defeated the Austrians and Bavarians, A.D. 1800. †ISER.-A tributary of the Danube. |