"And what is Death? I've dared him oft before the Paynim1 spear:

Think ye he's entered at my gate, has come to seek me here?

I've met him, faced him, scorned him, when the fight was raging hot:

I'll try his might, I'll brave his power, defy, and fear him not!

"Ho! sound the tocsin from my tower, and fire the

culverin ;

Bid each retainer arm with speed; call

5

every vassal in! Up with my banner on the wall; the banquet board

prepare;

Throw wide the portal of my hall, and bring my armor there!"

An hundred hands were busy then: the banquet forth was spread,

And rang the heavy oaken floor with many a martial

tread;

6

While from the rich dark tracery, along the vaulted wall, Lights gleamed on harness, plume, and spear, o'er the proud old Gothic hall.

1 Paynim = Pagan ; i.e., the Turks.

4 retainer, a follower of a liegelord; i.e., a lord to whom allegiance

2 tocsin, the alarm bell in feudal was due in feudal times. castles.

8 culverin, a long cannon mounted on the battlements of feudal castles.

5 vassal, retainer.

• vaulted, arched.

7 harness, the defensive armor of a knight.

Fast hurrying through the outer gate, the mailed retainers poured,

On through the portal's frowning arch, and thronged around the board;

While at its head, within his dark carved oaken chair of state,

Armed cap-à-pie, stern Rudiger, with gilded falchion, sat.

"Fill every beaker2 up, my men! pour forth the cheering wine!

There's life and strength in every drop,- thanksgiving to the vine!

Are ye all there, my vassals true?-mine eyes are waxing dim.

Fill round, my tried and fearless ones, each goblet to the brim !

"Ye're there, but yet I see you not: forth draw each trusty sword,

And let me hear your faithful steel clash once around my board!

I hear it faintly louder yet! What clogs my heavy breath?

Up, all, and shout for Rudiger, 'Defiance unto Death!""

Bowl rang to bowl, steel clanged to steel, and rose a deafening cry,

That made the torches flare around, and shook the flags on high:

1 cap-à-pie, from head to foot.

2 beaker, wine-goblet.

"Ho! cravens! Do ye fear him? Slaves! traitors! have ye flown?

Ho! cowards! have ye left me to meet him here alone?

But I defy him! let him come!" Down rang the

massy cup,

While from its sheath the ready blade came flashing halfway up;

And, with the black and heavy plumes scarce trembling on his head,

There in his dark carved oaken chair, old Rudiger sat

- dead!

A. G. GREENE.

122.-The Comet.

The Comet! He is on his way,
And singing as he flies;
The whizzing planets shrink before

The specter of the skies.
Ah! well may regal orbs burn blue,
And satellites turn pale:

Ten million cubic miles of head,
Ten billion leagues of tail!

And what would happen to the land,
And how would look the sea,

If in the bearded devil's path

Our earth should chance to be?

Full hot and high the sea would boil,

Full red the forests gleam:
Methought I saw and heard it all
In a dyspeptic dream.

I saw a tutor take his tube,1

The Comet's course to spy:
I heard a scream, the gathered rays
Had stewed the tutor's eye.

I saw a fort, the soldiers all

Were armed with goggles green :
Pop cracked the guns! whiz flew the balls!
Bang went the magazine!2

I saw a poet dip a scroll

Each moment in a tub;

I read upon the warping back,
The Dream of Beelzebub."

He could not see his verses burn,
Although his brain was fried;

And ever and anon he bent

To wet them as they dried.

I saw the scalding pitch roll down
The crackling, sweating pines;
And streams of smoke, like waterspouts,
Burst through the rumbling mines.

1 tube, telescope.

2 magazine, powder room.

I asked the firemen why they made
Such noise about the town;
They answered not, but all the while
The brakes went up and down.

I saw a roasting pullet sit
Upon a baking egg;

I saw a cripple scorch his hand,
Extinguishing his leg;

I saw nine geese upon the wing
Towards the frozen pole,
And every mother's gosling fell
Crisped to a crackling coal.

I saw the ox that browsed the grass
Writhe in the blistering rays:
The herbage in his shrinking jaws
Was all a fiery blaze.

I saw huge fishes, boiled to rags,
Bob through the bubbling brine;

And thoughts of supper crossed my soul:
I had been rash at mine.

Strange sights, strange sounds, O fearful dream!
Its memory haunts me still;
The steaming sea, the crimson glare,

That wreathed each wooded hill.
Stranger, if through thy reeling brain
Such midnight visions sweep,

Spare, spare, O spare thine evening meal,
And sweet shall be thy sleep!

HOLMES.