+ Every day the starving poor At last Bishop Hatto appointed a day He bade them to his great barn repair, He laid him down and closed his eyes, He listened and looked, - it was only the cat ; And they should have food for the winter there. For they have swum over the river so deep, Rejoiced the tidings good to hear, The Then, when he saw it could hold no more, "I' faith 't is an excellent bonfire!" quoth he; So then to his palace returnèd he, In the morning, as he entered the hall, As he looked, there came a man from his farm, Another came running presently, "I'll go to my tower in the Rhine," replied he; The walls are high, and the shores are steep, Bishop Hatto fearfully hastened away; And they have climbed the shores so steep, [Baltimore is a small seaport in the barony of Carbery, in South Munster. It grew up around a castle of O'Driscoll's, and was, after his ruin, colonized by the English. On the 20th of June, 1631, the crews of two Algerine galleys landed in the dead of the night, sacked the town, and bore off into slavery all who were not too old, or too young, or too fierce, for their purpose. The pirates were steered up the intricate channel by one Hackett, a Dungarvan fisherman, whom they had taken at sea for the purpose. Two years after, he was convicted of the crime and executed. Baltimore never recovered from this.] THE summer sun is falling soft on Carbery's The summer sun is gleaming still through Old Inisherkin's crumbled fane looks like a And in a calm and sleepy swell the ocean tide is heard: The hookers lie upon the beach; the children cease their play; The gossips leave the little inn; the households kneel to pray; O, some sweet mission of true love must urge This boy will bear a Scheik's chibouk, and that them to the shore, a Bey's jerreed. They bring some lover to his bride, who sighs in O, some are for the arsenals by beauteous DarBaltimore ! All, all asleep within each roof along that rocky street, And these must be the lover's friends, with gently gliding feet. A stifled gasp! a dreamy noise! The roof is in a flame ! From out their beds, and to their doors, rush maid and sire and dame, And meet, upon the threshold stone, the gleaming saber's fall, danelles, And o'er each black and bearded face the white "T is two long years since sunk the town beneath or crimson shawl. that bloody band, The yell of “Allah!" breaks above the prayer And all around its trampled hearths a larger and shriek and roarconcourse stand, O blessed God! the Algerine is lord of Baltimore! Where high upon a gallows-tree a yelling wretch There's one hearth well avenged in the sack of PARRHASIUS stood, gazing forgetfully Upon the canvas. There Prometheus lay, Midsummer morn, in woodland nigh, the birds The vulture at his vitals, and the links begin to sing; Of the lame Lemnian festering in his flesh; lives And, as the painter's mind felt through the dim | Your heart, old man!— forgive-ha! on your Flashed with a passionate fire, and the quick curl Let him not faint! rack him till he revives ! "Vain, — vain, - give o'er. His eye Glazes apace. He does not feel you now, Were like the winged god's breathing from his Stand back! I'll paint the death-dew on his brow! flights. Gods! if he do not die, But for one moment - one - till I eclipse "Shivering! Hark! he mutters Brokenly now, that was a difficult breath, - Is his heart still? Aha! lift up his head! How like a mounting devil in the heart NATHANIEL PARKER WILLIS THE ROMAN FATHER'S SACRIFICE. FROM "VIRGINIA." STRAIGHTWAY Virginius led the maid To where the reeking shambles stood, Where, in a crimson flood, The gurgling stream of blood. Hard by, a flesher on a block "O, how I loved my darling! Though stern I sometimes be, To thee, thou know'st, I was not so, So, |