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The field—but not of sheaves

Proud crests and pennons lay
Strewn o'er it thick as the birchwood leaves

In the autumn tempest's way.
12. Oh! the sun in heaven fierce havoc viewed

Wh the Austrian turned to fly,
And the brave, in the trampling multitude,
Had a fearful death to die !

And the leader of the war

At eve unhelmed was seen,
With a hurrying step on the wilds afar,

And a pale and troubled mien. 13. But the sons of the land which the freeman tills

Went back from the battle-toil,
To their cabin homes, 'midst the deep green hills,
All burdened with royal spoil.
There were songs

and festal fires
On the soaring Alps that night,
When children sprang to greet their sires
From the wild Morgarten fight.

HEMANS. Battle of Morgarten.—“In the year 1315, Switzerland was

invaded by Duke Leopold of Austria, with a formidable army. This prince declared he would trample the audacious rustics under his feet;' and that he had procured a large stock of cordage, for the purpose of binding their chiefs, and putting them to death.

“The 15th October, 1315, dawned. The sun darted its first rays on the shields and armour of the advancing host ; and this being the first army ever known to have attempted the frontiers of the cantons, the Swiss viewed its long line with various emotions. Montfort de Tettnang led the cavalry into the narrow pass, and soon filled the whole space between the mountain (Mount Sattel) and the lake. The fifty men on the eminence (above Morgarten) raised a sudden shout, and rolled down heaps of rocks and stones among the crowded ranks. The confederat on the mountain, perceiving the impression made by this attack, rushed down in close array, and fell upon the flank of the disordered column. With massy clubs they dashed in pieces the armour of the enemy, and dealt their blows and thrusts with long pikes. The narrowness of the defile admitted of no evolutions, and a slight frost having injured the road, the horses were impeded in all their motions ; many leaped into the lake ; all were startled ; and at last the whole column gave way, and fell suddenly back on the infantry; and these last, as the nature of the country did not allow them to open their files, were run over by the fugitives, and many of them trampled to death. A general rout ensued, and Duke Leopold was, with much difficulty, rescued by a peasant, who led him to Winterthur, where the historian of the times saw him arrive in the evening, pale, sullen, and

dismayed.”—PLANTA's Helvetic Confederacy. Wine-month.-A German name for October. Hasli.— A wild district in the Canton of Berne. Schreckhorn (the peak of terror).- A mountain in the Canton

of Berne. Righi (regina mountain, the queen of mountains).—An

isolated mountain in the Canton of Schwytz, 5905 feet high. The view from its summit is the finest in Europe, and attracts great numbers of travellers. Morgarten strait.-A narrow pass between Mount Mor

garten and Lake Egeri, a small lake about three miles in length, on the frontiers of the Canton of Schwytz. Mountain-people. - The Swiss. Lauwine. The Swiss name for the avalanche. Uri.-One of the cantons of Switzerland.

DEATH'S FINAL CONQUEST. [JAMES SHIRLEY, a dramatic poet, born 1594, published “ Bird

in the Cage," 1633 ; “Gamester," 1637. He died 29th October, 1666.] 1. THE glories of our birth and state

Are shadows, not substantial things;
There is no armour against fate :
Death lays his icy hand on kings,

Sceptre and crown
Must tumble down,

And in the dust be equal made

With the poor crooked scythe and spade. 2. Some men with swords may reap the field,

And plant with laurels where they kill; But their strong nerves at last must yield, They tame but one another still ;

Early or late,

They stoop to fate,
And must give up their murmuring breath

When they, pale captives! creep to death. 3. The garlands wither on your brow;

Then boast no more your mighty deeds ;
Upon death's purple altar, now,
See where the victor victim bleeds !

All heads must come

To the cold tomb,
Only the actions of the just
Smell sweet and blossom in the dust.


1. Busy, curious, thirsty fly,

Drink with me, and drink as I;
Freely welcome to my cup,
Couldst thou sip, and sip it up.
Make the most of life you may ;

Life is short, and wears away. 2. Both alike are mine and thine,

Hastening quick to their decline ;
Thine's a summer, mine's no more,
Though repeated to threescore;
Threescore summers, when they 're gone,
Will appear as short as one.


(JAMES MONTGOMERY, poet and journalist, of Sheffield, born 4th

November, 1771, published “Wanderer in Switzerland" in 1806, “The West Indies ” in 1809, “ Greenland" in 1810, “World before the Flood” in 1812, and “The Pelican Island” in 1827. He died 30th April, 1854.]

1. HIGHER, higher will we climb

Up the mount of glory,
That our names may live through time

In our country's story;
Happy, when her welfare calls,
He who conquers, he who falls.

2. Deeper, deeper let us toil

In the mines of knowledge ;
Nature's wealth and Learning's spoil

Win from school and college;
Delve we there for richer gems
Than the stars of diadems.

3. Onward, onward may we press

Through the path of duty ;
Virtue is true happiness,

Excellence true beauty :
Minds are of celestial birth,
Make we then a heaven of earth.

4. Closer, closer let us knit

Hearts and hands together,
Where our fireside comforts sit

In the wildest weather ;-
Oh, they wander wide who roam
For the joys of life from home!



YARROW STREAM. [SOHN LOGAN, born 1748, after completing his literary and

theological course at the University of Edinburgh, became minister of South Leith. In 1781 he published a volume of poems, and in the same year “Elements of the Philosophy of History.” He died 28th December, 1788.] 1. The banks were bonnie, Yarrow stream, When first on thee I met my

lover ; Thy banks how dreary, Yarrow stream,

When now thy waves his body cover ! 2. For ever now, O Yarrow stream,

Thou art to me a stream of sorrow;
For never on thy banks shall I

Behold my love—the flower of Yarrow! 3. He promised me a milk-white horse,

To bear me to his father's bowers;
He promised me a little page,

To squire me to his father's towers. 4. He promised me a wedding-ring,

The wedding-day was fixed to-morrow;
Now he is wedded to his

Alas! a watery grave in Yarrow !
5. Sweet were his words when last we met,

My passion as I freely told him ;
Clasp'd in his arms, I little thought

That I should never more behold him. 6. Scarce was he gone, I saw his ghost

It vanished with a shriek of sorrow ;
Thrice did the Water Wraith ascend,

And give a doleful groan through Yarrow ! 7. His mother from the window looked,

With all the longing of a mother;
His little sister, weeping, walked

The greenwood path to meet her brother.

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