"Hide-hide me, worthy stranger, though Green my colour be,
And in the day of danger may Heaven remember thee?
In yonder vale contending alone against that crew,
My life and limbs defending, an Orangeman I slew.

Hark! hear that fearful warning! there's death in every

tone

Oh, save my life till morning, and Heaven prolong your own."

The Orange heart was melted in pity to the Green;
He heard the tale, and felt it his very soul within.

"Dread not that angry warning, though death be in its tone,
I'll save your life till morning, or I will lose my own.”
Now, round his lowly dwelling, the angry torrent pressed
A hundred voices swelling, the Orangeman addressed-
Arise, arise, and follow the chase along the plain !

66

In yonder stony hollow your only son is slain!"
With rising shouts they gather upon the track amain,
And leave the childless father aghast with sudden pain.

He seeks the righted stranger in covert where he lay-
“Arise!" he said, "all danger is gone and passed away!
I had a son-one only, one loved as my life,

Thy hand has left me lonely, in that accursed strife.

I pledged my word to save thee until the storm should cease,
I keep the pledge I gave thee-arise, and go in peace!"

The stranger soon departed from that unhappy vale;
The father, broken-hearted, lay brooding o'er the tale.
Full twenty summers after, to silver turned his beard;
And yet the sound of laughter from him was never heard.

**

*

The night was falling dreary in merry Wexford town,
When in his cabin weary, a peasant laid him down.
Beside the waters, laving the feet of aged trees,

The Green flag, gaily waving, was spread against the breeze —
In mighty chorus meeting loud voices filled the town,
And fife and drum were beating, "Down, Orangeman, lie down."

Hark! 'mid the stirring clangour that woke the echoes there,
Loud voices, high in anger, rise on the evening air.
Like billows of the ocean, he sees them hurry on-
And, 'mid the wild commotion, an Orangeman alone.
"My hair," he said, "is hoary, and feeble is my hand,
And I could tell a story would shame your cruel band.
Full twenty years and over have changed my heart and brow,
And I am grown a lover of peace and concord now.

It was not thus I greeted your brother of the Green,
When fainting and defeated I freely took him in.

I pledged my word to save him from vengeance rushing on,
I kept the pledge I gave him, though he had killed my son."

That aged peasant heard him, and knew him as he stood,
Remembrance kindly stirred him, and tender gratitude.
With gushing tears of pleasure, he pierced the listening train,
"I'm here to pay the measure of kindness back again !"
Upon his bosom falling, the old man's tears came down ;
Deep memory recalling that cot and fatal town.

"The hand that would offend thee, my being first shall end; I'm living to defend thee, my saviour and my friend!"

He said, and slowly turning, addressed the wondering crowd; With fervent spirit burning, he told the tale aloud.

Now pressed the warm beholders their aged foe to greet: They raised him on their shoulders and chaired him through the street.

As he had saved that stranger, from peril scowling dim,
So in his day of danger did Heaven remember him.
By joyous crowds attended, the worthy pair were seen,
And their flags that day were blended, of Orange and of Green.
-Gerald Griffin.

HAMLET AND HORATIO.

HAMLET, HORATIO, and MARCELLUS.

Hor. HAIL to your lordship!

Ham. I am glad to see you well:

Horatio,--or I do forget myself.

Hor. The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever. Ham. Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you. And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio ?—

Marcellus?

Mar. My good lord

Ham. I am very glad to see you; good even, Sir;

But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg!
Hor. A truant disposition, good my lord.
Ham. I would not hear your enemy say so;
Nor shall you do mine ear that violence,
To make it truster of your own report
Against yourself: I know, you are no truant.
But what is your affair in Elsinore?

We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.

Hor. My lord, I came to see your father's funeral. Ham. I pray thee, do not mock me, fellow-student; I think, it was to see my mother's wedding.

Hor. Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon.
Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral bak'd meats
Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
'Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven

Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio!
My father, Methinks, I see my father.
Hor. Where?

My lord?

Ham. In my mind's eye, Horatio.

Hor. I saw him once, he was a goodly king.
Ham. He was a man, take him for all in all,
I shall not look upon his like again.

Hor. My lord, I think I saw him yester night.
Ham. Saw! who?

Hor. My lord, the king your father.

Ham. The king my father?

Hor. Season your admiration for a while
With an attent ear; till I may deliver,
Upon the witness of these gentlemen,
This marvel to you.

Ham. For Heaven's love, let me hear.

Hor. Two nights together had these gentlemen,
Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch,

In the dead waste and middle of the night,
Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father,
Armed at point, exactly, cap-a-pie,

Appears before them, and, with a solemn march,
Goes slow and stately by them: thrice he walk'd,
By their oppress'd and fear-surprised eyes,

Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, distill'd
Almost to jelly with the act of fear,

Stand dumb, and speak not to him. This to me
In dreadful secrecy impart they did;

And I with them, the third night kept the watch:
Where, as they had deliver'd, both in time,

Form of the thing, each word made.true and good,
The apparition comes: I knew your

These hands are not more like.

Ham. But where was this?

father;

Mar. My lord, upon the platform where we watch'd. Ham. Did you not speak to it?

Hor. My lord, I did;

But answer made it none: yet once, methough,
It lifted up its head, and did address
Itself to motion, like as it would speak:
But, even then, the morning cock crew loud,
And at the sound it shrunk in haste away,
And vanish'd from our sight.

Ham. 'Tis very strange.

Hor. As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true;
And we did think it writ down in our duty,
To let you know of it.

Ham. Indeed, indeed, Sirs, but this troubles me.
Hold you the watch to night?

All. We do, my lord.
Ham. Arm'd, say you?
All. Arm'd, my lord.

Ham. From top to toe?

All. My lord, from head to foot.

Ham. Then saw you not

His face?

Hor. O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up.
Ham. What, look'd he frowningly?

Hor. A countenance more

In sorrow than in anger.

Ham. Pale, or red?

Hor. Nay, very pale.

Ham. And fix'd his eyes upon you?

Hor. Most constantly.

Ham. I would I had been there.

Hor. It would have much amaz'd you.

Ham. Very like.

Very like Stay'd it long?

Hor. While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred.

Mar. & Ber. Longer, longer.

Hor. Not when I saw it.

Ham. His beard was grizzled? no?

Hor. It was, as I have seen it in his life,

A sable silver'd.

Ham. I will watch to-night;

Perchance, 'twill walk again.

Hor. I warrant, it will.

Ham. If it assume my noble father's person,
I'll speak to it, though EARTH itself should gape,
And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,
If you have hitherto conceal'd this sight,
Let it be tenable in your silence still :

S

And whatsoever else shall hap to-night,
Give it an understanding, but no tongue :
I will requite your loves: So, fare you well:
Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve,
I'll visit you.

All. Our duty to your honour.

Ham. Your loves, as mine to you; Farewell.
My father's spirit in arms! all is not well:

I doubt some foul play: 'would the night were come!
Till then sit still, my soul: Foul deeds will rise.
Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes.
-Shakespeare.

THE SHERIFF OF SAUMUR.

ONCE when the king was travelling through
His realm, as kings were wont to do
In ancient times, when royalty
Was deemed a goodly sight to see,
It chanced the Sheriff of Saumur
(A city in the royal tour,)
Was chosen by the magistrates
To meet the monarch at the gates,
And in a handsome speech declare
How glad and proud the people were
To see his Majesty; and say
Such compliments as subjects pay,
As being but the proper thing
On such occasions, to the king.

"Sire!" said the sheriff (so the speech
Began, of course,) "Sire! we beseech
Your gracious majesty to hear

The humble words of hearty cheer

With which great Sire!—with which, through me,

The people greet your majesty.

We are so glad to see you, Sire,

That-that-" And here the speech hung fire!

"So glad the people of our town

That-that-" And here the man broke down!

Whereat a courtier said, "I'm sure

These worthy people of Saumur
Are glad; my liege, to see you here;
That seems to me extremely clear;

And don't his Honour's speech confess it?

So glad, indeed, they CAN'T EXPRESS IT!"—J. G. Saxe.