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And in they burst, and on they rushed, while, like a

guiding star, Amidst the thickest carnage blazed the helmet of Navarre.

Now, God be praised, the day is ours; Mayenne hath

turned his rein. D'Aumale hath cried for quarter; the Flemish Count is

slain. Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds before a Biscay

gale; The field is heaped with bleeding steeds, and flags, and

cloven mail. And then we thought on vengeance, and, all along our

van, “Remember Saint Bartholomew!" was passed from man

to man. But out spake gentle Henry, “No Frenchman is my foe: Down, down with every foreigner, but let your brethren

go." Oh! was there ever such a knight, in friendship or in

war, As our Sovereign Lord King Henry, the soldier of

Navarre ! Ho! maidens of Vienna: ho! matrons of Lucerne; Weep, weep, and rend your hair for those who never

shall return. Ho! Philip, send, for charity, thy Mexican pistoles, That Antwerp monks may sing a mass for thy poor spear

men's souls. Ho! gallant nobles of the League, look that your arms be

bright; Ho! burghers of Saint Genevieve, keep watch and ward

to-night.

For our God hath crushed the tyrant, our God hath raised

the slave, And mocked the counsel of the wise, and the valour of

the brave. Then glory to his holy name, from whom all glories are ; And glory to our Sovereign Lord, King Henry of Navarre !

MACAULAY.

THE ARMADA.

ATTEND, all ye who list to hear our noble England's praise : I sing of the thrice famous deeds she wrought in ancient

days, When that great fleet, invincible, against her bore in vain, The richest spoils of Mexico, the stoutest hearts in Spain. It was about the lovely close of a warm summer's day, There came a gallant merchant-ship, full sail to Plymouth

bay; The crew had seen Castile’s black fleet, beyond Aurigny's

isle, At earliest twilight, on the waves, lie heaving many a

mile. At sunrise she escaped their van, by God's especial grace ; And the tall Pinta, till the noon, had held her close in

chase. Forthwith a guard, at every gun, was placed along the

wall; The beacon blazed upon the roof of Edgecombe's lofty

hall; Many a light fishing-bark put out, to pry along the coast ; And with loose rein, and bloody spur, rode inland many

a post.'

With his white hair, unbonnetted, the stout old sheriff

comes; Behind him march the halberdiers, before him sound the

drums. The yeomen, round the market cross, make clear an ample

space, For there behoves him to set up the standard of her Grace: And haughtily the trumpets peal, and gaily dance the

bells, As slow, upon the labouring wind, the royal blazon swells. Look how the lion of the sea lifts up his ancient crown, And underneath his deadly paw treads the gay lilies

down! So stalked he when he turned to flight, on that famed

Picard field, Bohemia's plume, and Genoa’s bow, and Cæsar's eagle

shield : So glared he when, at Agincourt, in wrath he turned to

bay, And, crushed and torn, beneath his claws the princely

hunters lay, Ho! strike the flag-staff deep, sir knight! ho! scatter

flowers, fair maids ! Ho, gunners! fire a loud salute ! ho, gallants! draw your

blades ! Thou, sun, shine on her joyously! ye breezes, waft her

wide! Our glorious semper eadem! the banner of our pride!

The fresh’ning breeze of eve unfurled that banner's massy

foldThe partiny gleam of sunshine kissed that haughty scroll

of gold.

Night sunk upon the dusky beach, and on the purple sea; Such night in England ne'er had been, nor ne'er again

shall be. From Eddystone to Berwick bounds, from Lynn to Mil

ford bay, That time of slumber was as bright, as busy as the day; For swift to east, and swift to west, the warning radiance

spreadHigh on St. Michael's Mount it shone-it shone on Beachy

Head. Far o'er the deep, the Spaniard saw, along each southern

shire, Cape beyond cape, in endless range, those twinkling points

of fire, The fisher left his skiff to rock on Tamar’s glittering waves, The rugged miners poured to war, from Mendip's sunless

caves : O’er Longleat's towers, o'er Cranbourne's oaks, the fiery

herald flew He roused the shepherds of Stonehenge—the rangers of

Beaulieu. Right sharp and quick the bells rang out, all night, from

Bristol town; And, ere the day, three hundred horse had met on Clifton

Down. The sentinel on Whitehall gate looked forth into the night, And saw, o'erhanging Richmond Hill, that streak of blood

red light. The bugle's note, and cannon's roar, the deathlike silence

broke, And with one start, and with one cry, the royal city woke; At once, on all her stately gates, arose the answering fires ; At once the wild alarum clashed from all her reeling spires; From all the batteries of the Tower pealed loud the voice

of fear, And all the thousand masts of Thames sent back a louder

cheer: And from the farthest wards was heard the rush of hurry

ing feet, And the broad streams of flags and pikes dashed down

each rousing street; And broader still became the blaze, and louder still the din, As fast from every village round the horse came spurring in; And eastward straight, for wild Blackheath, the warlike

errand went; And roused, in many an ancient hall, the gallant squires

of Kent: Southward, for Surrey's pleasant hills, flew those bright

coursers forth; High on black Hampstead's swarthy moor, they started

for the north; And on, and on, without a pause, untired they bounded still; All night from tower to tower they sprang, all night from

hill to hill; Till the proud peak unfurled the flag o'er Derwent's rocky

dales; Till, like volcanoes, flared to heaven the stormy hills of

Wales; Till twelve fair counties saw the blaze on Malvern's lonely

height; Till streamed in crimson, on the wind, the Wrekin's crest

of light. Till, broad and fierce, the star came forth, on Ely's stately

fane, And town and hamlet rose in arms, o'er all the boundless

plain :

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