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And our sons unborn shall nerve them for some great deed to be done,

By that Twentieth of September, when the Alma's heights were won.

Oh! thou river; dear for ever to the gallant, to the free

Alma, roll thy waters proudly, proudly roll them to

the sea.

(By permission of the Author.)

THE SPECTRE PIG.

O. W. HOLMES.

Ir was the stalwart butcher man
That knit his swarthy brow,
And said the gentle pig must die,
And sealed it with a vow.

And oh it was the gentle pig

Lay stretched upon the ground,
And ah! it was the cruel knife
His little heart that found.

They took him then, those wicked men,
They trailed him all along;
They put a stick between his lips,

And through his heels a thong.

And round and round an oaken beam
A hempen cord they flung,
And like a mighty pendulum
All solemnly he swung.

Now say thy prayers, thou sinful man,
And think what thou hast done,

And read thy catechism well,

Thou sanguinary one.

For if his sprite should walk by night,
It better were for thee,

That thou were mouldering in the ground,
Or bleaching in the sea.

It was the savage butcher then
That made a mock of sin,
And swore a very wicked oath,
He did not care a pin.

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"Oh! father, father, list to me;
The pig is deadly sick,
And men have hung him by his heels,
And fed him with a stick."

It was the naughty butcher then
That laughed as he would die,
Yet did he soothe the sorrowing child,
And bid him not to cry.

"Oh! Nathan, Nathan, what's a pig,
That thou shouldst weep and wail?
Come, bear thee like a butcher's child,
And thou shalt have his tail."

It was the butcher's daughter then,
So slender and so fair,

That sobbed as if her heart would break,
And tore her yellow hair.

And thus she spoke in thrilling tone,-
Fast fell the tear-drops big:
"Ah! woe is me! Alas! alas!
The pig! the pig! the pig!"

Then did her wicked father's lips
Make merry with her woe,
And call her many a naughty name,
Because she whimpered so.

Ye need not weep, ye gentle ones,
In vain your tears are shed,
Ye cannot wash his crimson hand,
Ye cannot soothe the dead.

The bright sun folded on his breast
His robes of rosy flame,

And softly over all the west

The shades of evening came.

He slept, and troops of murdered pigs
Were busy with his dreams;
Loud rang their wild, unearthly shrieks,
Wide yawned their mortal seams.

The clock struck twelve; the dead hath heard;

He opened both his eyes,

And sullenly he shook his tail

To lash the feeding flies.

One quiver of the hempen cord,

One struggle and one bound,

With stiffened limb and leaden eye,
The pig was on the ground.

And straight towards the sleeper's house
His fearful way he wended;

And hooting owl, and hovering bat,

On midnight wing attended.

Back flew the bolt, uprose the latch,
And open swung the door,
And little mincing feet were heard
Pat, pat, along the floor.

Two hoofs upon the sanded floor,
And two upon the bed;

And they are breathing side by side,
The living and the dead.

"Now wake, now wake, thou butcher man!
What makes thy cheeks so pale ?
Take hold! take hold! thou dost not fear
To clasp a spectre's tail ?"

Untwisted every winding coil;

The shuddering wretch took hold, Till like an icicle it seemed,

So tapering and so cold,

"Thou com'st with me, thou butcher man!"
He strives to loose his grasp,
But, faster than the clinging vine,
Those twining spirals clasp.

And open, open, swung the door,
And fleeter than the wind,
The shadowy spectre swept before,
The butcher trailed behind.

Fast fled the darkness of the night,
And morn rose faint and dim;

They called full loud, they knocked full long They did not waken him.

Straight, straight towards that oaken beam,
A trampled pathway ran;

A ghastly shape was swinging there,-
It was the butcher man.

A SCENE FROM THE MARTYR OF ANTIOCH.

THE VERY REV. HENRY HART MILMAN, D.D.,
DEAN OF ST. PAUL'S.

[Dr. Milman is the youngest son of the late Sir Francis Milman, Bart., physician to George III. He was born Feb. 10, 1791, and educated at Dr. Burney's, Greenwich, at Eton, and at Brasenose College, Oxford. In 1817 he took orders, and was appointed Vicar of St. Mary's, Reading. Previously to this he had written his tragedy of "Fazio," in which the celebrated Miss O'Neill sustained the rôle of the heroine at Covent-garden Theatre. His subsequent works are "Anne Boleyn," "The Martyr of Antioch," and "Belshazzar" (an heroic poem in twelve books), "Samor" (1818), and "The Fall of Jerusalem," a poem (1820). Dr. Milman has also contributed largely to the "Quarterly Review;" and has written in prose a "History of Latin Christianity," a "History of the Jews," a "Life of Horace," and other works. As a poet he takes rank with Bowles and Keble, and has made a reputation "that the world will not willingly let die." Having been some years the Rector of St. Margaret's, Westminster, he was presented with the deanery of St. Paul's in 1849.]

MARGARITA'S REVELATION TO HER FATHER (CALLIAS, PRIEST

of apollo) of hER CONVERSION TO CHRISTIANITY.

Callias. How? What? mine ears

Ring with a wild confusion of strange sounds
That have no meaning. Thou'rt not wont to mock
Thine aged father, but I think that now

Thou dost, my child.

Margarita.

By Jesus Christ—by Him

In whom my soul hath hope of immortality,
Father! I mock not.

Call.

i

Lightnings blast-not thee,

But those that, by their subtle incantations,

Have wrought upon thy innocent soul!

Look there!

Marg. Father, I'll follow thee where'er thou wilt:

Thou dost not mean this cruel violence

With which thou dragg'st me on.

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