Coffee groves, whose ample shade Shall screen the dark Creolian maid. But soon, alas! his darling pleasure In watching this his precious treasure Is like to fade, for water fails On board the ship in which he sails. Now all the reservoirs are shut, The crew on short allowance put. So small a drop is each man's share, Few leavings you may think there are To water these poor coffee plants; But he supplies their gasping wants; E'en from his own dry, parchéd lips He spares it for his coffee slips. Water he gives his nurslings first, Ere he allays his own deep thirst; Lest, if he first the water sip, He bear too far his eager lip. He sees them droop for want of more, Yet, when they reach the destined shore With pride the heroic gardener sees A living sap still in the trees. The islanders his praise resound; Coffee plantations rise around; And Martinico loads her ships With produce from those dear-saved slips. THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM.-Southey. Old Kaspar's work was done, And by him sported on the green She saw her brother Peterkin In playing there, had found; He came to ask what he had found, Old Kaspar took it from the boy, And then the old man shook his head, "T is some poor fellow's skull," said he, "Who fell in the great victory. "I find them in the garden, For there's many here about; And often, when I go to plough, The ploughshare turns them out. For many thousand men," said he, "Were slain in that great victory." "Now tell us what 't was all about," "It was the English," Kaspar cried, 66 My father lived at Blenheim then, They burned his dwelling to the ground, So with his wife and child he fled, Nor had he where to rest his head. "With fire and sword the country round But things like that, you know, must be "Great praise the Duke of Marlborough won, And our good Prince Eugene !" Why, 't was a very wicked thing!" Said little Wilhelmine. "Nay, nay, my little girl," quoth he, "It was a famous victory, "And every body praised the Duke, Who this great fight did win." "But what good came of it at last?" Quoth little Peterkin. Why, that I cannot tell," said he, "But 't was a famous victory." THE INCHCAPE ROCK. Southey. No stir in the air, no stir in the sea, Without either sign or sound of their shock, The abbot of Aberbrothok Had placed that bell on the Inchcape rock; On a buoy in the storm it floated and swung, And over the waves its warning rung. When the rocks were hid by the surge's swell, The sun in heaven was shining gay, The sea-birds screamed as they wheeled round, The buoy of the Inchcape bell was seen, He felt the cheering power of spring, His eye was on the Inchcape float; Quoth he, My men, put out the boat, And row me to the Inchcape rock, And I'll plague the abbot of Aberbrothok." The boat is lowered, the boatmen row, And he cut the bell from the Inchcape float. Down sunk the bell with a gurgling sound, Quoth Sir Ralph, - "The next who comes to the rock Wont bless the abbot of Aberbrothok." Sir Ralph the Rover sailed away; So thick a haze o'erspreads the sky, On the deck the Rover takes his stand; Quoth Sir Ralph,-"It will be lighter soon, "Can'st hear," said one, "the breakers roar, For methinks we should be near the shore?" Now where we are I cannot tell, But I wish we could hear the Inchcape bell.” They hear no sound; the swell is strong; Though the wind hath fallen, they drift along; Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock; O Death! it is the Inchcape rock. |