But be it so or not, I only know My present duty, and my Lord's command Then by the flaring lights the Speaker read, The shad and alewive fisheries. Whereupon To hear the thunder of the wrath of God And there he stands in memory to this day, John Greenleaf Whittier. SIR MARMADUKE 45 SIR MARMADUKE SIR MARMADUKE was a hearty knight; He's painted standing bolt upright, With his hose rolled over his knee; His dining-room was long and wide, His spaniels lay by the fireside; And in other parts, d'ye see A saddle, his wife, and a litter of cats; And he looks like the head Of an ancient family. He never turned the poor from his gate, But was always ready to break the pate Of his country's enemy. What knight could do a better thing Than serve the poor, and fight for his king? And so may every head Of an ancient family! Unknown. THE NORTHERN STAR A Tynemouth Ship THE Northern Star For many an hour In sleet and shower By the lighthouse rock I stray; And watch till dark For the winged bark Of him that is far away. The castle's bound I wander round, Amidst the grassy graves: Is the north wind drear, And all I see are the waves. The Northern Star Is set afar! Set in the Baltic Sea : And the waves have spread The sandy bed That holds my Love from me. Unknown. SONG OF MARION'S MEN 47 "LIKE CRUSOE, WALKING BY THE LONELY STRAND" LIKE Crusoe, walking by the lonely strand O sweet invasion! the first crocus of the year! Farewell, solitude! Soon shall wild creatures of the field and wood Flock from all sides with much ado and stir, And make of me most willing prisoner! Thomas Bailey Aldrich. SONG OF MARION'S MEN1 OUR band is few, but true and tried, When Marion's name is told. As seamen know the sea. We know its walls of thorny vines, Its safe and silent islands Woe to the English soldiery, 1 Note 4. On them shall light at midnight And they who fly in terror deem A mighty host behind, And hear the tramp of thousands Upon the hollow wind. Then sweet the hour that brings release From danger and from toil; We talk the battle over, We share the battle's spoil. The woodland rings with laugh and shout, As if a hunt were up, And woodland flowers are gathered To crown the soldier's cup. That in the pine-top grieves, On beds of oaken leaves. Well knows the fair and friendly moon The band that Marion leads, The glitter of their rifles, The scampering of their steeds. "Tis life to guide the fiery barb Across the moonlit plain; "T is life to feel the night-wind That lifts his tossing mane, |