Mary then, and gentle Anne, And sometimes Mary was the fair, Another Mary then arose, Long, alas! should I have been When fair Rebecca set me free, For the gracious princess died, And Judith reigned in her stead. One month, three days, and half an hour Judith held the sovereign power: Wondrous beautiful her face, But so weak and small her wit, That she to govern was unfit, And so Susannah took her place. But when Isabella came, Armed with a resistless flame; By the artillery of her eye, Whilst she proudly marched about, She beat out Susan, by-the-bye. But in her place I then obeyed Bless me from such an anarchy ! Gentle Henrietta then, And a third Mary next began; Then Joan, and Jane, and Audria, And then another Catherine, But should I now to you relate, If I should tell the politic arts The letters, embassies, and spies, Numberless, nameless mysteries! I more voluminous should grow, But I will briefer with them be, My present empress doth claim, Whom God grant long to reign! THE SWORD SONG. THEODORE Körner. [Theodore Körner, the eminent German poet, was born at Dresden in 1791. After studying at Leipsic he became secretary to the Court Theatre of Vienna, and commenced as a dramatist. In 1812 he entered the Prussian army and signalized himself equally by his bravery and his martial songs. For his conduct at the battle at Lützen he was promoted, and afterwards, having been twice wounded, was made a lieutenant. He was killed in a skirmish with the French at Mecklenburg, August 26th, 1813. His lyrical poems were published after his death under the appropriate title of "The Lyre and the Sword," and his dramas, poems, and literary remains have since been published in Germany. Many of his writings have been translated into English and met with due appreciation.] THOU Sword upon my belted vest, What means thy glittering polished crest! “A Horseman brave supports my blade, For him I shine, for him I'll wade Through blood and death-Hurrah!" Yes, my good sword, behold me free, As though thou wert betrothed to me "Soldier of Fortune, I am thine, Soon as our bridal morn shall rise, We'll join our hands-Hurrah! “O sacred union !—haste away, Ye tardy moments of delay I long, my bridegroom, for the day To be thy bride-Hurrah!" Why cling'st thou in the scabbard-why? Thou iron fair of destiny, So wild-so fond of battle-cry, Why cling'st thou so-Hurrah! "I hold myself in dread reserve, Rest-still in narow compass rest— "Oh let me not too long await— Come forth! quick from thy scabbard fly, "O glorious thus in nuptial tie, Glitters your bride-Hurrah!" Then out, thou messenger of strife, When clasping thee?-Hurrah! When in thy scabbard on my side, Thee glowing to my lips I'll press, Who thee forsakes-Hurrah! Let joy sit in thy polished eyes, 136 ELIZA'S ESCAPE. MRS. HARRIET BEECHER STOWE. MR. Shelby, a planter, in Kentucky, having sold his slave, Eliza Harris, to Haley, a slave-dealer, Eliza contrives during the night to escape with her infant child. Shelby, having taken the money for his slave, feels bound to render what assistance he can to his customer; he, therefore, mounts two of his "niggers" on fleet horses to assist him in her re-capture. Mrs. Shelby is desirous that every obstacle shall be thrown in the way of the pursuit, to give Eliza time, and in this laudable object she is assisted by Sam and Andy, the two "niggers" referred to. The scene, which is one of the most exciting in Mrs. Stowe's "Uncle Tom's Cabin," opens in the morning, after breakfast, after the discovery of the escape, and continues: Mr. and Mrs. Shelby both felt annoyed and degraded by the familiar impudence of the trader, and yet both saw the absolute necessity of putting a constraint on their feelings. The more hopelessly sordid and insensible he appeared, the greater became Mrs. Shelby's dread of his succeeding in re-capturing Eliza and her child, and of course the greater her motive for detaining him by every female artifice. She, therefore, graciously smiled, assented, chatted familiarly, and did all she could to make time pass imperceptibly. At two o'clock, Sam and Andy brought the horses up to the posts, apparently greatly refreshed and invigorated by the scamper of the morning. Sam was there new oiled from dinner, with an abundance of zealous and ready officiousness. As Haley approached, he was boasting, in flourishing style, to Andy, of the evident and eminent success of the operation, now that he had "fairly come to it." "Your master, I s'pose, don't keep no dogs?" said Haley, thoughtfully, as he prepared to mount. |