O hark, O hear, how thin and clear, and thinner, clearer, far

*Blow the horns of Elfland.' The construction is changed.

The splendour falls on castle walls
And snowy summits old in story:
The long light shakes across the lakes,
And the wild cataract leaps in glory.

Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

O hark, O hear, how thin and clear,
And thinner, clearer, farther going!

O sweet and far from cliff and scar

The horns of Elfland faintly blowing!

Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying,
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

O love, they die in yon rich sky,
They faint on hill or field or river:
Our echoes roll from soul to soul,

And grow for ever and for ever.

Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.

EXAMPLE FOR PRACTICE.

Arm, arm, arm, arm! the scouts are all come in;
Keep your ranks close, and now your honours win.
Behold from yonder hill the foe appears;
Bows, bills, glaves, arrows, shields, and spears!
Like a dark wood he comes, or tempest pouring;
Oh, view the wings of horse the meadows scouring.
The van-guard marches bravely. Hark, the drums!
Dub, dub.

They meet, they meet, and now the battle comes:

See how the arrows fly,
That darken all the sky!

Hark how the trumpets sound,

Hark how the hills rebound,

Tara, tara, tara, tara, tara!

Hark how the horses charge! in, boys, boys, in!
The battle totters; now the wounds begin:
Oh, how they cry!

Oh, how they die!

Room for the valiant Memnon, armed with thunder!
See how he breaks the ranks asunder!
They fly! they fly! Eumenes has the chase,
And brave Polybius makes good his place.
To the plains, to the woods,

To the rocks, to the floods,

They fly for succour. Follow, follow, follow!

Hark how the soldiers holloa! Hey, hey!

Brave Diocles is dead,

And all his soldiers fled;

The battle's won, and lost,

That many a life hath cost.-Beaumont and Fletcher.

SKELETON FORM-SUBJECT IN ITALICS.

There are who rejoice.

Many suns have risen since thou, May, wert born. thee, may forget gifts. should praise thee when a thousand years are told.

beavens feel thy presence.

tear, cheeks have kindled.

Wanderers have smiled.

Bards, who hailed
Oh for a song that
Earth, sea, the

The earth partakes a cheer, eyes let fall a The old have said, 'Another year is ours.' Who lisps a song? The infant, who was a

prisoner, his mother leaves, when the blast is quiet.

Favours may be found.

Thou

Thy help is with weed and thy train are proud

that creeps:
to look on the nook that our bands have dressed.

is whispering.

Heaven's love is spread.

We wander when May

Away with sighs for lilies that must fade, or primrose as it dies. Desires are linked; As growth retires, another takes its place. If thou hast known mishap, if expectations have perished, if joys were caught while up they sprung, such is the lot. Streams are patient that April could not check. could be sent by thee. The House gleams, and buts

peep forth. this charm.

Season, permit not a blossom to drop!

Such mists as glide

stand attired: they

Lovely May, keep