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So light to the croup the fair lady he swung,
So light to the saddle before her he sprung.
Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean-roll !
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain.
But here I stand and scoff you! here I fling
Hatred and full defiance in your face!

If it be Arthur- Ho! what, ho!
Up spear! out arrow! Bend the bow!

Forth after Arthur, on the foe!
Now fall on the foe like a tempest of flame!
Strike down the false banner whose triumph were shame!
Strike, strike for the true flag, for freedom and fame!

“To arms! to arms ! to arms !” they cry;

“Grasp the shield and draw the sword;

Lead us to Philippi's lord ;
Let us conquer him or die!”
“The olde sea-wall (he cried) is downe;

The rising tide comes on apace,
And boats adrift in yonder towne

Go sailing uppe the market-place.”
The wind, one morning, sprang up from sleep,
Saying, "Now for a frolic! now for a leap!
Now for a madcap, galloping chase!

I'll make a commotion in every place !”
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot ;
Follow your spirits, and upon this charge,
Cry,-Heaven for Harry! England! and St. George !
Pull, pull in your lassos, and bridle to steed,
And speed, if ever for life you would speed;
And ride for your lives, for your lives you must ride,
For the plain is aflame, the prairie on fire.
And there was mounting in hot haste; the steed,

The mustering squadron, and the clattering car Went pouring forward with impetuons speed,

And swiftly forming in the ranks of war.

O ye loud waves! and O ye forests high !

And O ye clouds that far above me soared !
Thou rising sun! thou blue rejoicing sky!

Yea, every thing that is, and will be free!
Bear witness for me, whereso'er ye be,

With what deep worship I have still adored
The spirit of divinest liberty!

Io, they come, they come,

Garlands for every shrine,
Strike lyres to greet them home,

Bring roses, pour ye wine !
Swell, swell the Dorian fute

Through the blue triumphal sky,
Let the cithern's tone salute

The sons of victory !
She starts,-she moves, -she seems to feel
The thrill of life along her keel,
And spurning with her foot the ground,
With one exulting, joyous bound,
She leaps into the Ocean's arms.

Graded Rise, Solemnity and Sublimity. There was silence, and I heard a voice saying, Shall mortal man be more just than God? Shall a man be more pure than his Maker ?

And thou, sole Ruler among the children of men, to whom the shields of the earth belong, "gird on thy sword, thou most Mighty :" go forth with our hosts in the day of battle! Impart, in addition to their hereditary valor, that confidence of success which springs from thy presence! Pour into their hearts the spirit of departed heroes! Inspire them with thine own; and, while led by thine hand and fighting under thy banners, open thou their eyes to behold in every valley and in every plain what the prophet beheld by the same illumination,-chariots of fire and horses of fire! “Then shall the strong man be as tow, and the maker of it as a spark; and they shall both burn together, and none shall quench them.”

When all thy mercies, O my God,

My rising sonl surveys,
Transported with the view, I'm lost

In wonder, love and praise.
Rise, like a cloud of incense, from the earth!
Thou kingly spirit, throned among the hills,
Thou dread ambassador from earth to heaven,
Great hierarch! tell thou the silent sky,
And tell the stars, and tell yon rising sun,
Earth, with her thousand voices, praises God.

O sacred forms, how proud you look !
How high you list your heads into the sky!
How huge you are, how mighty, and how free!
Ye are the things that tower, that shine; whose smile
Makes glad—whose frown is terrible; whose forms,
Robed or unrobed, do all the impress wear
Of awe divine.

Father of earth and heaven! I call thy name!

Round me the smoke and shout of battle roll!
My eyes are dazzled with the rustliny flame;

Father, sustain an untried soldier's soul.

Or life, or death, whatever be the goal
That crowns or closes round this struggling hour,

Thou knowest, if ever from my spirit stole
One deeper prayer, t’was that no cloud might lower

On my young fame!-O hear! God of cternal power.
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 steel,

The volley's roll, the rocket's blasting spire;
They shake-like broken waves their squares retire,-

On them huzzars !-Now give them rein and heel ;

Think of the orphaned child, the murdered sire:-
Earth cries for blood,-in thunder on them wheel !
This hour to Europe's fate shall set the triumph seal !

Graded Fall, Climax. It is a crime to put a Roman citizen in bonds; it is the height of guilt to scourge him; little less than parricide to put him to death: what name, then, shall I give to the act of crucifying him ?

What a piece of work is man! how noble in reason ! how infinite in faculties ! in form and moving how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a God!

For thou hast said in thine heart, I will ascend into heaven; I will exalt my throne above the stars of God; I will sit also upon the mount of the congregation, in the sides of the north ; I will ascend above the heights of the clouds; I will be like the Most High !*

If I were an American, as I am an Englishman, while a foreign troop was landed in my country I never would lay down my arms, never, never, never !

Graded Fall, Sentiment Expressed.
The day is done, and the darkness

Falls from the wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downward

From an eagle in his flight.

Ah, few shall part where many meet !

The snow shall be their winding-sheet,
And every turf beneath their feet

Shall be a soldier's sepulchre.

* In the three foregoing examples the pitch rises through successive clauses until the last, when the voice suddenly sinks, to express the climax.

With many a weary step and many a groan
Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone:
The huge round stone, resulting with a bound,
Thunders impetuous down, and smokes along the ground.

No longer the joy of the sailor-boy's breast

Was heard in his wildly breathed numbers;
The sea-bird had flown to her wave-girdled nest,

The fisherman sunk to his slumbers.

Into the jaws of death,
Into the mouth of Hell,

Rode the six hundred.

Parenthesis. Natural historians observe (for while I am in the country I must fetch my allusions from thence) that only the male birds have voices.

I mention these instances, not to undervalue science (it would be folly to attempt that; for science, when true to its name, is true knowledge), but to show that its name is sometimes wrongfully assumed.

Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest
(For Brutus is an honorable man;
So are they all-all honorable men),
Come I to speak in Cæsar's funeral.

Parenthetical Expressions. If I have any genius, which I am sensible can be but very small; or any readiness in speaking, in which I do not deny that I have been much conversant; or any skili in oratory, from an acquaintance with the best arts, to which I confess I have been always inclined; no one has a better right to demand of me the fruit of all these things than this Aulus Licinius.

The fundamental principles of science, at least those

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