The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Ontario High School Reader, by A. E. Marty.

At Flores in the Azores Sir Richard Grenville lay, And a pinnace, like a flutter'd bird, came flying from far away: "Spanish ships of war at sea! we have sighted fifty-three!" Then sware Lord Thomas Howard: "'Fore God I am no coward; But I cannot meet them here, for my ships are out of gear,5 And the half my men are sick. I must fly, but follow quick. We are six ships of the line; can we fight with fifty-three?"
Then spake Sir Richard Grenville: "I know you are no coward; You fly them for a moment to fight with them again. But I've ninety men and more that are lying sick ashore.10 I should count myself the coward if I left them, my Lord Howard, To these Inquisition dogs and the devildoms of Spain."
So Lord Howard past away with five ships of war that day, Till he melted like a cloud in the silent summer heaven; But Sir Richard bore in hand all his sick men from the land15 Very carefully and slow, Men of Bideford in Devon, And we laid them on the ballast down below; For we brought them all aboard, And they blest him in their pain, that they were not left to Spain,20 To the thumbscrew and the stake, for the glory of the Lord.
He had only a hundred seamen to work the ship and to fight, And he sailed away from Flores till the Spaniard came in sight, With his huge sea-castles heaving upon the weather bow. "Shall we fight or shall we fly?25 Good Sir Richard, tell us now, For to fight is but to die! There'll be little of us left by the time this sun be set." And Sir Richard said again: "We be all good English men. Let us bang these dogs of Seville, the children of the devil,30 For I never turn'd my back upon Don or devil yet." Sir Richard spoke and he laugh'd, and we roar'd a hurrah, and so The little Revenge ran on sheer into the heart of the foe, With her hundred fighters on deck, and her ninety sick below; For half of their fleet to the right and half to the left were seen,35 And the little Revenge ran on thro' the long sea-lane between.
Thousands of their soldiers look'd down from their decks and laugh'd, Thousands of their seamen made mock at the mad little craft Running on and on, till delay'd By their mountain-like San Philip that, of fifteen hundred tons,40 And up-shadowing high above us with her yawning tiers of guns, Took the breath from our sails, and we stay'd.
And while now the great San Philip hung above us like a cloud Whence the thunderbolt will fall Long and loud,45 Four galleons drew away From the Spanish fleet that day, And two upon the larboard and two upon the starboard lay, And the battle-thunder broke from them all. But anon the great San Philip she bethought herself and went50 Having that within her womb that had left her ill-content; And the rest they came aboard us, and they fought us hand to hand, For a dozen times they came with their pikes and musqueteers, And a dozen times we shook 'em off as a dog that shakes his ears When he leaps from the water to the land.55
And the sun went down, and the stars came out far over the summer sea, But never a moment ceased the fight of the one and the fifty-three. Ship after ship, the whole night long, their high-built galleons came, Ship after ship, the whole night long, with their battle-thunder and flame; Ship after ship, the whole night long, drew back with her dead and her shame:60 For some were sunk and many were shatter'd, and so could fight us no more— God of battles, was ever a battle like this in the world before?
For he said "Fight on! fight on!" Tho' his vessel was all but a wreck; And it chanced that, when half of the short summer night was gone,65 With a grisly wound to be drest he had left the deck, But a bullet struck him that was dressing it suddenly dead, And himself he was wounded again in the side and the head, And he said, "Fight on! fight on!"
And the night went down, and the sun smiled out far over the summer sea,70 And the Spanish fleet with broken sides lay round us all in a ring; But they dar'd not touch us again, for they fear'd that we still could sting, So they watch'd what the end would be. And we had not fought them in vain, But in perilous plight were we,75 Seeing forty of our poor hundred were slain, And half of the rest of us maim'd for life In the crash of the cannonades and the desperate strife; And the sick men down in the hold were most of them stark and cold, And the pikes were all broken or bent, and the powder was all of it spent;80 And the masts and the rigging were lying over the side; But Sir Richard cried in his English pride, "We have fought such a fight for a day and a night As may never be fought again! We have won great glory, my men!85 And a day less or more At sea or ashore, We die—does it matter when? Sink me the ship, Master Gunner—sink her, split her in twain! Fall into the hands of God, not into the hands of Spain!"90
And the gunner said "Ay, ay," but the seamen made reply: "We have children, we have wives, And the Lord hath spared our lives. We will make the Spaniard promise, if we yield, to let us go; We shall live to fight again and to strike another blow."90 And the lion there lay dying, and they yielded to the foe.
And the stately Spanish men to their flagship bore him then Where they laid him by the mast, old Sir Richard caught at last, And they praised him to his face with their courtly foreign grace; But he rose upon their decks, and he cried:100 "I have fought for Queen and Faith like a valiant man and true; I have only done my duty as a man is bound to do: With a joyful spirit I Sir Richard Grenville die!" And he fell upon their decks, and he died.
And they stared at the dead that had been so valiant and true,105 And had holden the power and glory of Spain so cheap That he dared her with one little ship and his English few; Was he devil or man? He was devil for aught they knew, But they sank his body with honour down into the deep, And they mann'd the Revenge with a swarthier alien crew,110 And away she sail'd with her loss and long'd for her own; When a wind from the lands they had ruin'd awoke from sleep, And the water began to heave and the weather to moan, And or ever that evening ended a great gale blew, And a wave like the wave that is raised by an earthquake grew,115 Till it smote on their hulls and their sails and their masts and their flags, And the whole sea plunged and fell on the shot-shatter'd navy of Spain, And the little Revenge herself went down by the island crags To be lost evermore in the main.

Preparatory.—Give a series of titles suggestive of the events narrated in this ballad; describe the picture that each title calls up, and tell on what part of the poem it is based.

What different ideals of bravery are brought out in this ballad, and by whom is each presented? Compare them with those set forth in The Private of the Buffs (Fourth Reader), and Horatius.

1, 3, and 13. (Appendix A, 1 and 6.)

'Fore God ... sick. What Inflection prevails? (Introduction, pp. 17 and 18.)

What Inflection is placed on the questions in ll. 7, 25, 62, 88, and 108? (Introduction, pp. 18 and 19.)

For the glory of the Lord. How is the irony brought out by the voice? (Introduction, pp. 21, 22, and 30.)

25-28. (Introduction, p. 18.)

Compare the speech of the men (ll. 25-28) with that of Sir Richard (ll. 29-31) from the standpoint of mental attitude. How is this difference indicated by Stress?

32. Which are the emphatic words? Give your reasons. Select words that are emphatic because of contrast from ll. 34, 35, and 91. What Inflection is placed on the emphatic words in each case?

How does repetition affect the Emphasis in ll. 37-38, 53-54, 58-60, 63, and 89? (Introduction, pp. 31-33.)

40. With what word is THAT connected in sense? How does the voice make the connection? (Introduction, p. 33.)

43-47. Analyse these lines from the standpoint of Perspective.

66-67. Where do the Pauses occur? How does the Grouping affect them?

68. Why is HIMSELF emphatic?

75-81. Give examples of "momentary completeness".

93. Which is the most emphatic word in this line? Give your reason.

101-103. To what extent should Imitation enter into the reading of this speech? (Introduction, pp. 4 and 5.)

112-117. How can the effect of this Climax be brought out by the voice? (Introduction, p. 31.)

118. Note the transition in thought and feeling. By what change in Time, Pitch, and Force is it accompanied?

HERVÉ RIEL

On the sea and at the Hogue, sixteen hundred ninety-two, Did the English fight the French,—woe to France! And the thirty-first of May, helter-skelter through the blue, Like a crowd of frightened porpoises a shoal of sharks pursue, Came crowding ship on ship to St. Malo on the Rance,5 With the English fleet in view.
'Twas the squadron that escaped, with the victor in full chase; First and foremost of the drove, in his great ship, Damfreville: Close on him fled, great and small, Twenty-two good ships in all;10 And they signalled to the place, "Help the winners of a race! Get us guidance, give us harbour, take us quick—or, quicker still, Here's the English can and will!"
Then the pilots of the place put out brisk and leapt on board;15 "Why, what hope or chance have ships like these to pass?" laughed they: "Rocks to starboard, rocks to port, all the passage scarred and scored, Shall the Formidable here, with her twelve and eighty guns, Think to make the river-mouth by the single narrow way, Trust to enter where 'tis ticklish for a craft of twenty tons,20 And with flow at full beside? Now 'tis slackest ebb of tide. Reach the mooring? Rather say, While rock stands or water runs, Not a ship will leave the bay!"25
Then was called a council straight. Brief and bitter the debate: "Here's the English at our heels; would you have them take in tow All that's left us of the fleet, linked together stern and bow, For a prize to Plymouth Sound?30 Better run the ships aground!" (Ended Damfreville his speech.) Not a minute more to wait! "Let the captains all and each Shove ashore, then blow up, burn the vessels on the beach!35
Give the word!" But no such word Was ever spoke or heard; For up stood, for out stepped, for in struck amid all these,— A Captain? a Lieutenant? a Mate—first, second, third?40 No such man of mark, and meet With his betters to compete! But a simple Breton sailor pressed by Tourville for the fleet, A poor coasting-pilot he, Hervé Riel the Croisickese.
And, "What mockery or malice have we here?" cries Hervé Riel:45 "Are you mad, you Malouins? Are you cowards, fools, or rogues? Talk to me of rocks and shoals, me who took the soundings, tell On my fingers every bank, every shallow, every swell 'Twist the offing here and Grève, where the river disembogues? Are you bought by English gold? Is it love the lying's for?50 Morn and eve, night and day, Have I piloted your bay, Entered free and anchored fast, at the foot of Solidor. Burn the fleet and ruin France? That were worse than fifty Hogues! Sirs, they know I speak the truth! Sirs, believe me there's a way!55 Only let me lead the line, Have the biggest ship to steer, Get this Formidable clear, Make the others follow mine, And I lead them, most and least, by a passage I know well,60 Right to Solidor past Grève, And there lay them safe and sound; And if one ship misbehave— Keel so much as grate the ground— Why, I've nothing but my life,—here's my head!" cries Hervé Riel.65
Not a minute more to wait. "Steer us in, then, small and great! Take the helm, lead the line, save the squadron!" cried its chief. Captains, give the sailor place! He is Admiral, in brief.70 Still the north wind, by God's grace! See the noble fellow's face As the big ship, with a bound, Clears the entry like a hound. Keeps the passage, as its inch of way were the wide sea's profound!75 See, safe through shoal and rock, How they follow in a flock, Not a ship that misbehaves, not a keel that grates the ground, Not a spar that comes to grief! The peril, see, is past,80 All are harboured to the last, And just as Hervé Riel hollas "Anchor!"—sure as fate, Up the English come—too late.
So, the storm subsides to calm: They see the green trees wave85 On the heights o'erlooking Grève. Hearts that bled are stanched with balm. "Just our rapture to enhance, Let the English rake the bay, Gnash their teeth and glare askance90 As they cannonade away! 'Neath rampired Solidor pleasant riding on the Rance!" How hope succeeds despair on each captain's countenance! Out burst all with one accord, "This is Paradise for Hell!95 Let France, let France's King, Thank the man that did the thing!" What a shout, and all one word, "Hervé Riel!" As he stepped in front once more,100 Not a symptom of surprise In the frank, blue Breton eyes, Just the same man as before.
Then said Damfreville, "My friend, I must speak out at the end,105 Though I find the speaking hard. Praise is deeper than the lips: You have saved the King his ships, You must name your own reward. 'Faith, our sun was near eclipse!110 Demand whate'er you will, France remains your debtor still. Ask to heart's content and have! or my name's not Damfreville."
Then a beam of fun outbroke On the bearded mouth that spoke,115 As the honest heart laughed through Those frank eyes of Breton blue: "Since I needs must say my say, Since on board the duty's done, And from Malo Roads to Croisic Point, what is it but a run?—120 Since 'tis ask and have, I may— Since the others go ashore— Come! A good whole holiday! Leave to go and see my wife, whom I call the Belle Aurore!" That he asked and that he got,—nothing more.125
Name and deed alike are lost: Not a pillar nor a post In his Croisic keeps alive the feat as it befell; Not a head in white and black On a single fishing-smack,130 In memory of the man but for whom had gone to wrack All that France saved from the fight whence England bore the bell. Go to Paris: rank on rank Search the heroes flung pell-mell On the Louvre, face and flank!135 You shall look long enough ere you come to Hervé Riel. So, for better and for worse, Hervé Riel, accept my verse! In my verse, Hervé Riel, do thou once more Save the squadron, honour France, love thy wife the Belle Aurore!140

Preparatory.—Narrate briefly the events of the poem and describe (a) the council, (b) the scene after the ships are safely anchored.

How does this poem illustrate the truth that the highest motive in life is duty? From this standpoint compare Hervé Riel with Sir Richard Grenville in Tennyson's The Revenge.

Give other examples to show that true nobility does not depend on such externals as rank and position.

2. woe to France. How does the voice indicate that this phrase is parenthetical?

4. What is the subject of PURSUE? Its object? How does the reader make the meaning clear?

3-5. What is the Shading?

8 and 14. Supply the ellipsis in each case. How is the reading affected by an ellipsis? (Introduction, p. 10.)

12-14. What is the Stress? (Introduction, pp. 27 and 28.)

16-25. What energy characterizes these lines? With what Stress should they be read?

TWELVE AND EIGHTY GUNS, TWENTY TONS. What is the difference in the Quality of voice? Compare man of mark, simple Breton sailor, ll. 40 and 42.

26. Where is the Pause? Why?

Note the transitions in ll. 27, 31, 32, and 33. How is each one indicated?

38. STOOD, STEPPED, STRUCK. Observe the increased Emphasis. Compare ll. 46 and 69.

41-43. Note the contrast. What is the Inflection on each part? (Introduction, p. 20.)

45-66. What state of mind does Hervé Riel's speech indicate throughout? What feelings predominate when he addresses (a) the Malouins, (b) the officers? What Time, Pitch, Force, and Stress are the natural expression?

46. COWARDS, FOOLS, ROGUES. What is the Inflection on each word? (Introduction, p. 20.)

65. Keel so much, etc. Note the Pause and Grouping.

72, 73-76, 77-84. What is the predominant feeling in each passage?

104-113. Compare the self-control of Damfreville's speech with the impulsive shout of the preceding stanza. What is the resulting difference in vocal expression?

114-116. Note the Pause and Grouping.

118-122. What is the Inflection? (Introduction, p. 17.)

129-132. Observe the Grouping.

THE HANDWRITING ON THE WALL

Now the queen by reason of the words of the king and his lords came into the banquet house: and the queen spake and said, O king, live for ever: let not thy thoughts trouble thee, nor let thy countenance be changed: There is a man in thy kingdom, in whom is the spirit of the holy gods; and in the days of thy father light and understanding and wisdom, like the wisdom of the gods, was found in him; whom the king Nebuchadnezzar thy father, the king, I say, thy father, made master of the magicians, astrologers, Chaldeans, and soothsayers; Forasmuch as an excellent spirit and knowledge and understanding, interpreting of dreams, and shewing of hard sentences, and dissolving of doubts, were found in the same Daniel, whom the king named Belteshazzar: now let Daniel be called, and he will shew the interpretation.

Then was Daniel brought in before the king. And the king spake and said unto Daniel, Art thou that Daniel, which art of the children of the captivity of Judah, whom the king my father brought out of Jewry? I have even heard of thee, that the spirit of the gods is in thee, and that light and understanding and excellent wisdom is found in thee. And now the wise men, the astrologers, have been brought in before me, that they should read this writing, and make known unto me the interpretation thereof: but they could not shew the interpretation of the thing: And I have heard of thee, that thou canst make interpretations, and dissolve doubts: now if thou canst read the writing, and make known to me the interpretation thereof, thou shalt be clothed with scarlet, and have a chain of gold about thy neck, and shalt be the third ruler in the kingdom.

Then Daniel answered and said before the king, Let thy gifts be to thyself, and give thy reward to another; yet I will read the writing unto the king, and make known to him the interpretation. O thou king, the most high God gave Nebuchadnezzar thy father a kingdom, and majesty, and glory, and honour: And for the majesty that he gave him, all people, nations, and languages, trembled and feared before him: whom he would he slew; and whom he would he kept alive; and whom he would he set up; and whom he would he put down. But when his heart was lifted up, and his mind hardened in pride, he was deposed from his kingly throne, and they took his glory from him: And he was driven from the sons of men; and his heart was made like the beasts, and his dwelling was with the wild asses: they fed him with grass like oxen, and his body was wet with the dew of heaven; till he knew that the most high God ruled in the kingdom of men, and that he appointeth over it whomsoever he will. And thou, his son, O Belshazzar, hast not humbled thine heart, though thou knewest all this; But has lifted up thyself against the Lord of heaven; and they have brought the vessels of his house before thee, and thou, and thy lords, thy wives, and thy concubines, have drunk wine in them; and thou hast praised the gods of silver, of gold, of brass, iron, wood, and stone, which see not, nor hear, nor know: and the God in whose hand thy breath is, and whose are all thy ways, hast thou not glorified: Then was the part of the hand sent from him; and this writing was written.

And this is the writing that was written, MENE, MENE, TEKEL, UPHARSIN. This is the interpretation of the thing: MENE; God hath numbered thy kingdom, and finished it. TEKEL; Thou art weighed in the balances, and art found wanting. PERES; Thy kingdom is divided, and given to the Medes and Persians. Then commanded Belshazzar, and they clothed Daniel with scarlet, and put a chain of gold about his neck, and made a proclamation concerning him, that he should be the third ruler in the kingdom.

In that night was Belshazzar the king of the Chaldeans slain. And Darius the Median took the kingdom, being about threescore and two years old.

PAUL'S DEFENCE BEFORE KING AGRIPPA

2. My manner of life from my youth, which was at the first among mine own nation at Jerusalem, know all the Jews; which knew me from the beginning, if they would testify, that after the most straitest sect of our religion I lived a Pharisee. And now I stand and am judged for the hope of the promise made of God unto our fathers: unto which promise our twelve tribes, instantly serving God day and night, hope to come. For which hope's sake, King Agrippa, I am accused of the Jews.

3. Why should it be thought a thing incredible with you, that God should raise the dead? I verily thought with myself, that I ought to do many things contrary to the name of Jesus of Nazareth. Which thing I also did in Jerusalem: and many of the saints did I shut up in prison, having received authority from the chief priests; and when they were put to death, I gave my voice against them. And I punished them oft in every synagogue, and compelled them to blaspheme; and being exceedingly mad against them, I persecuted them even unto strange cities.

4. Whereupon as I went to Damascus with authority and commission from the chief priests, at midday, O king, I saw in the way a light from heaven, above the brightness of the sun, shining round about me and them which journeyed with me. And when we were all fallen to the earth, I heard a voice speaking unto me, and saying in the Hebrew tongue, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me? It is hard for thee to kick against the pricks. And I said, Who art thou, Lord? And he said, I am Jesus whom thou persecutest. But rise, and stand upon thy feet: for I have appeared unto thee for this purpose, to make thee a minister and a witness both of these things which thou hast seen, and of those things in the which I will appear unto thee; delivering thee from the people, and from the Gentiles, unto whom now I send thee, to open their eyes, and to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins, and inheritance among them which are sanctified by faith that is in me.

5. Whereupon, O King Agrippa, I was not disobedient unto the heavenly vision: but shewed first unto them of Damascus, and at Jerusalem, and throughout all the coasts of Judæa, and then to the Gentiles, that they should repent and turn to God, and do works meet for repentance. For these causes the Jews caught me in the temple, and went about to kill me. Having therefore obtained help of God, I continue unto this day, witnessing both to small and great, saying none other things than those which the prophets and Moses did say should come: that Christ should suffer, and that he should be the first that should rise from the dead, and should shew light unto the people, and to the Gentiles.

6. And as he thus spake for himself, Festus said with a loud voice, Paul, thou art beside thyself; much learning doth make thee mad. But he said, I am not mad, most noble Festus; but speak forth the words of truth and soberness. For the king knoweth of these things, before whom also I speak freely: for I am persuaded that none of these things are hidden from him; for this thing was not done in a corner. King Agrippa, believest thou the prophets? I know that thou believest. Then Agrippa said unto Paul, Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian. And Paul said, I would to God, that not only thou, but also all that hear me this day, were both almost, and altogether such as I am, except these bonds.

7. And when he had thus spoken, the king rose up, and the governor, and Bernice, and they that sat with them: And when they were gone aside, they talked between themselves, saying, This man doeth nothing worthy of death or of bonds. Then said Agrippa unto Festus, This man might have been set at liberty, if he had not appealed unto Cæsar.

THE STRANDED SHIP

Far up the lonely strand the storm had lifted her. And now along her keel the merry tides make stir No more. The running waves that sparkled at her prow Seethe to the chains and sing no more with laughter now. No more the clean sea-furrow follows her. No more To the hum of her gallant tackle the hale Nor'-westers roar. No more her bulwarks journey. For the only boon they crave Is the guerdon of all good ships and true, the boon of a deep-sea grave.
Take me out, sink me deep in the green profound, To sway with the long weed, swing with the drowned, Where the change of the soft tide makes no sound, Far below the keels of the outward bound.
No more she mounts the circles from Fundy to the Horn, From Cuba to the Cape runs down the tropic morn, Explores the Vast Uncharted where great bergs ride in ranks, Nor shouts a broad "Ahoy" to the dories on the Banks. No more she races freights to Zanzibar and back, Nor creeps where the fog lies blind along the liner's track, No more she dares the cyclone's disastrous core of calm To greet across the dropping wave the amber isles of palm.
Take me out, sink me deep in the green profound, To sway with the long weed, swing with the drowned, Where the change of the soft tide makes no sound, Far below the keels of the outward bound.
Amid her trafficking peers, the wind-wise, journeyed ships, At the black wharves no more, nor at the weedy slips, She comes to port with cargo from many a storied clime. No more to the rough-throat chantey her windlass creaks in time. No more she loads for London with spices from Ceylon,— With white spruce deals and wheat and apples from St. John. No more from Pernambuco with cotton-bales,—no more With hides from Buenos Ayres she clears for Baltimore.
Take me out, sink me deep in the green profound, To sway with the long weed, swing with the drowned, Where the change of the soft tide makes no sound, Far below the keels of the outward bound.
Wan with the slow vicissitudes of wind and rain and sun How grieves her deck for the sailors whose hearty brawls are done! Only the wandering gull brings word of the open wave, With shrill scream at her taffrail deriding her alien grave. Around the keel that raced the dolphin and the shark Only the sand-wren twitters from barren dawn till dark; And all the long blank noon the blank sand chafes and mars The prow once swift to follow the lure of the dancing stars.
Take me out, sink me deep in the green profound, To sway with the long weed, swing with the drowned, Where the change of the soft tide makes no sound, Far below the keels of the outward bound. And when the winds are low, and when the tides are still, And the round moon rises inland over the naked hill, And o'er her parching seams the dry cloud-shadows pass, And dry along the land-rim lie the shadows of thin grass, Then aches her soul with longing to launch and sink away Where the fine silts lift and settle, and sea-things drift and stray, To make the port of Last Desire, and slumber with her peers In the tide-wash rocking softly through the unnumbered years.
Take me out, sink me deep in the green profound, To sway with the long weed, swing with the drowned, Where the change of the soft tide makes no sound, Far below the keels of the outward bound.

Preparatory.—What is the fundamental idea of the first three stanzas? Of the fourth stanza? Of the last stanza? Of the refrain? Apply these ideas to human life? What feelings do they arouse? Show that these feelings grow stronger as the poem advances.

What Time, Pitch, and Stress are the natural expression of the atmosphere pervading the poem? Where are they most marked?

What effect has the atmosphere of the last stanza on the Quality of the voice?

HER, STIR. (Appendix A, 1.)

STRAND, FAR, CALM, BRAWLS. Distinguish the sound of a in these words, and select other words from the poem with the same sound. (Appendix A, 1.)

What is the Inflection on the negative statements in the first three stanzas? On the entreaty in the refrain? (Introduction, p. 18.)

What effect do the falling Inflection, and the marked Pause after MORE, l. 3, stanza 1 produce?

And when the winds ... grass. What is the Inflection? What is the Shading when compared with the next line?

SIR PATRICK SPENS

The king sits, in Dunfermline toun, Drinking the blude-red wine; "O whare will I get a skeely skipper, To sail this new ship o' mine?"
O up and spake an eldern knight, Sat at the king's right knee,— "Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor, That ever sailed the sea."
The king has written a braid letter, And sealed it wi' his hand, And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens, Was walking on the strand.
"To Noroway, to Noroway, To Noroway o'er the faem; The king's daughter of Noroway, 'Tis thou maun bring her hame."
The first word that Sir Patrick read, Sae loud, loud laughèd he; The neist word that Sir Patrick read, The tear blindit his e'e.
"O wha is this has done this deed, And tauld the king o'me, To send us out, this time o' the year, To sail upon the sea?
Be't wind, be't weet, be't hail, be't sleet, Our ship must sail the faem; The king's daughter of Noroway, 'Tis we must fetch her hame."
They hoysed their sails on Monenday morn, Wi' a' the speed they may; They hae landed in Noroway, Upon a Wodensday.
They hadna been a week, a week, In Noroway, but twae, When that the lords o' Noroway Began aloud to say,—
"Ye Scottishmen spend a' our king's goud, And a' our queenis fee." "Ye lee, ye lee, ye lears loud! Fu' loud I hear ye lee!
For I brought as mickle white monie, As gane my men and me, And I brought a half-fou o' gude red goud, Out o'er the sea wi' me.
Mak' ready, mak' ready, my merry men a'! Our gude ship sails the morn." "Now, ever alake, my master dear, I fear a deadly storm! I saw the new moon, late yestreen, Wi' the auld moon in her arm! And, if we gang to sea, master, I fear we'll come to harm."
They hadna sailed a league, a league, A league, but barely three, When the lift grew dark, and the wind blew loud, And gurly grew the sea.
The ankers brak, and the topmasts lap, It was sic a deadly storm; And the waves cam' o'er the broken ship, Till a' her sides were torn.
"O whare will I get a gude sailor, To tak' my helm in hand, Till I gae up to the tall topmast, To see if I spy land?"
"O here am I, a sailor gude, To tak' the helm in hand, Till you gae up to the tall topmast; But I fear ye'll ne'er spy land."
He hadna gane a step, a step, A step, but barely ane, When a bolt flew out o' our goodly ship, And the salt sea it cam' in.
"Gae fetch a web o' the silken claith, Anither o' the twine, And wap them into our ship's side, And letna the sea come in."
They fetched a web o' the silken claith, Anither o' the twine, And they wapped them roun' that gude ship's side, But still the sea cam' in.
O laith, laith were our gude Scots lords, To weet their cork-heeled shoon! But lang or a' the play was played, They wat their hats aboon.
And mony was the feather-bed, That floated o'er the faem; And mony was the gude lord's son, That never mair cam' hame.
The ladyes wrang their fingers white, The maidens tore their hair, A' for the sake of their true loves; For them they'll see na mair.
O lang, lang may the ladyes sit, Wi' their fans into their hand, Before they see Sir Patrick Spens Come sailing to the strand!
And lang, lang may the maidens sit, Wi' their goud kaims in their hair, A' waiting for their ain dear loves! For them they'll see na mair. Half ower, half ower to Aberdour, 'Tis fifty fathoms deep, And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens, Wi' the Scots lords at his feet.

THE REVENGE

HERVÉ RIEL

THE HANDWRITING ON THE WALL

PAUL'S DEFENCE BEFORE KING AGRIPPA

THE STRANDED SHIP

SIR PATRICK SPENS