Which close the pèstilence | are bróke, [x..-] And thou art TERRIBLE: the tear, The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier, [1] But to the HERO,-when his sword Greece nurtured in her glóry's time, We tell thy doom without a sigh; For thou art FREEDOM's now, and FÀME's,- LESSON LIII.-WATERLOO. -Byron. [-] There was a sound of revelry by night, Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again ; <And all went merry as a marriage-bèll : [x] But нÙSн! HARK!—a deep sound | strikes like a HUSH! | [a. q.] [I° u] rising knèll! Did ye not HEAR it? [1] Nò; 't was but the wind, <No sleep till mòrn, when Youth and Pleasure' meet, with flying feet [x] But HARK!-that heavy sound | breaks in 1 once mòre, As if the clouds || its echo would repeat; And nearer, clèarer, dèadlier than before! [II°°uu] ARM!-ARM!-[1-] it is,—it is,—the cànnon's opening ròar! [a. q.] [ ] Within a windowed niche of that high hall || .quèll: would He rush'd into the field, and, foremost fighting, fèll. [x, u] Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fró, [a. q.] And gathering téars, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pále, which | but an hour ago Blush'd at the praise of their own lòveliness; And there were sudden pàrtings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs || [-] Which ne'er might be repeated; who could guess || If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, [b..-] Since upon night so sweet, such awful mòrn | could rise! [lov] And there was mounting in hot hàste; the steed, The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war: [-] And the deep thunder, peal on peal afàr; And néar, the beat of the alarming drùm | [lv] Roused up the soldier ere the morning-stàr; [x] While thronged the citizens | with terror dùmb, Or whispering with white lips [°] "The FòE! They COME, they COME!" [a. q.] [1°] And wild and high | the "Cameron's gathering" ròse! [pu. t.] The war-note of Lochiel, which Albyn's hills | Have heard and heard, too, have her Saxon fòes; [l.-] How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills, Sávage | and shrill! But with the breath which fills' < Their mountain-pipe, so fill the mountaineers | With the fierce native daring which instils | < The stirring memory of a thousand years; [II.] And Evan's, Dònald's fame || rings | in each clans [bm.s.] < man's ears! And Ardennes* waves above them her green leaves, Dewy, with nature's tear-drops, as they páss, Ere evening to be trodden like the grass || Of living valor | [u] rolling on the foe, <[u] And burning with high hope, [x .. =] shall moulder ' cold and low. > [ ] [b] Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, Last évein beauty's circle proudly gay, < The midnight | brought the signal sound of strife, < The mórn | the marshalling in àrms,-the day || < Battle's magnificently stern array! [x.-] The thunder-clouds | close d'er it, which when rént, The earth is cover'd thick | with other clay, [x.. =] Which her own clay shall cover, héap'd and pènt, Rider and horse,-friend, fòe,-in one red burial < I blènt. LESSON LIV.-PRUSSIAN BATTLE HYMN. Translated from Körner.t [Marked as LESSON LII.] [x FATHER of earth and heaven! I call Thy name! Round me the smoke and shout' of battle | ròll; [-] My eyes are dazzled | with the rustling flame; Father, sustain, an untried soldier's soul. [-°x] On Or life, or death, whatever be the goal | That crowns or closes round this struggling hour, my young fame!--[I。-] Oh! HEAR! God of eter- *Pronounced Arden. †Theo in this word has no correspondent sound in English : it is nearly, as the French cu. [xx°-] Gód! Thou art mèrciful.-The wintry storm, But show the sterner grandeur of Thy form; To Faith's raised eye as càlm, as lovely come, As splendors of the autumnal ' evening stàr, As roses shaken by the breeze's plùme, When like cool incense | comes the dewy áir, And on the golden wáve, the sùn-set | búrns afàr. [1.-] Gód! Thou art mighty!-At thy footstool bound, Lie gazing to thée, Chánce, and Life, and Death; <Nor in the Angel-circle | flaming round, < Nor in the million worlds | that blaze beneath, Hear my lást prayer !—I ask no mòrtal wreath; Let but these eyes my rescued cóuntry see, [o] Then take my spirit, All Omnipotent, to THÈE. Now for the FIGHT!—now for the CANNON-PEAL!FORWARD!-through blood, and toil, and cloud, and fire! GLORIOUS the SHOUT, the SHOCK, the CRASH of STÈEL, ÒN them HUSSARS!-Now give them rein' and HEEL! Think of the orphaned child, the murdered sire :EARTH cries for BLOOD,-in THUNDER' on them wheel! [1.-] This hour || to Europe's fate || shall set the triumphseal! LESSON LV.-BERNARDO DEL CARPIO.-Mrs. Hemans. [This, and whatever other lessons the teacher thinks proper to select, may be marked, by the reader, as LESSON LII.] The celebrated Spanish champion, Bernardo del Carpio, having made many ineffectual efforts to procure the release of his father, the Count Saldana, who had been imprisoned by King Alfonso of Asturias, almost from the time of Bernardo's birth, at last took up arms in despair. The war which he maintained, proved so destructive, that the men of the land gathered round the king, and united in demanding Saldana's liberty. Alfonso accordingly offered. Bernardo immediate possession of his father's person, in exchange for his castle at Carpio. Bernardo, without hesitation, gave up his strong hold, with all his captives, and being assured that his father was then on his way from prison, rode forth with the king to meet him. "And when he saw his father approaching, he exclaimed," says the ancient chronicle, "Oh! God, is the Count Saldana indeed coming?" "Look where he is," replied the cruel king, "and now go and greet him, whom you have so long desired to see."-The remainder of the story will be found related in the ballad. The chronicles and romances leave us nearly in the dark, as to Bernardo's future history after this event, with the exception of the final interview in which he renounced his allegiance to the king. The warrior bowed his crested head, and tamed his heart of fire, "Now haste, Bernardo, haste! for there, in very truth, is he, The father whom thy faithful heart hath yearned so long to see.' His dark eye flashed,-his proud breast heaved,-his cheek's hue came and went, He reached that gray-haired chieftain's side, and there dismounting bent, A lowly knee to earth he bent, his father's hand he took- That hand was cold,—a frozen thing,-it dropped from his like lead,- Up from the ground he sprang and gazed ;—but who could paint that gaze? They hushed their very hearts, that saw its horror and amaze :- "Father!" at length he murmured low, and wept like childhood then- Then covering with his steel-gloved hands his darkly mournful brow, "No more there is no more," he said, "to lift the sword for now, |