Triumphant,* lo! on all the winds they come,
And clap th' exulting hand o'er FALLEN ROME;
And hovering o'er thy domes that blazing glow,
Their waving pinions fan the flames below;
They view, rejoiced, the conflagration's gleams
Shoot their long glare o'er Tiber's redden'd streams;
And snuff the carnage-tainted smokes that rise,
An incense sweet, a grateful sacrifice.

Sad+ Tiber's banks with broken columns spread!
Fall'n every fane that rear'd to heav'n its head!
Poor heap of ashes! Grandeur's mouldering tomb!
Art‡ THOU the place was once ETERNAL ROME?

Yes,§ Roman; snatch thy triumph whilst thou may,
Weak is thy rage, and brief thy little day;
Vanish'd and past the momentary storm,
Albion,|| my Albion, brighter shows her form.
Far o'er the rolling years of gloom I spy
Her oak-crown'd forehead lifted to the sky,
Above the low-hung mists unclouded seen,
Amid the wreck of nations still serene;

She bursts the chain when hands like thine would bind
The groaning world, and lord it o'er mankind.

Amid yon glitt'ring flood of liquid light,

Flow regal forms before my dazzled sight;
Like stars along the milky zone that blaze,

Their sceptr'd-hands and gold-bound fronts they raise:
My sons!-my daughters!-faint, T alas! and dim,
Before these failing eyes your glories swim,
Mix'd with the mists of death. 'Tis yours to throw
Your radiance round, while happier ages flow;

* The manner becomes animated with the highest degree of enthusiasm and a tone of exultation. 66 'Clap th' exulting hand" requires a

suitable action.

+ The tone here changes to that of apparent sympathy but real disdain, gradually increasing in violence.

This line requires a particularly slow utterance with the strongest expression of contempt.

Here is a transition from disdain to a haughty daring, rising into enthusiasm.

¶ Plaintive tone.

I* smile at storms of earthly woe, and rise
Shades of my sires! to your serener skies.

WHEWELL'S BOADICEA.-Cambridge Prize Poem.

ALEXANDER'S ADDRESS TO HIS SOLDIERS.t SOLDIERS! I am not ignorant that many things have been published by the Indians, purposely to affright us. But such artifices are by no means unusual to you. The Persians described the straits of Cilicia, the vast plains of Mesopotamia, the rivers Tigris and Euphrates, as the most insurmountable difficulties. Yet your bravery conquered THEM. Do you repent that you have followed me thus far? Your glorious deeds have subdued for you a multitude of provinces. You have extended your conquests beyond the Iaxarthes and Mount Caucasus; you see the rivers of India flow through the midst of your empire. Why are you afraid of crossing the Hyphasus, and of erecting your trophies on its banks as on those of the Hydaspes? What! can the elephants, whose number is so falsely augmented, terrify you to such a degree? Has not experience taught you that they were moré destructive to their own masters than to the enemy? Endeavours are used to intimidate you by the dreadful idea of innumerable armies; are they more numerous than those of Darius? It is sure very late for you to count the legions of the enemy, after your victories have made Asia a desert. It was when you crossed the Hellespont that you ought to have reflected on the smallness of your number. Now the SCYTHIANS form part of our army; the BACTRIANS, the SOG DIANS, and the DAHÆ, are with us, and fight for our glory. I do not depend on those barbarians: it is on YOUR courage that I rely. Your victorious arms are present to my imagination, and your courage assures me success. So long as I shall be surrounded with you in fight, so long as you exhibit the

* Exultation increasing to transport; the last line to be uttered with elevated eyes and extended hands.

+ This speech should be delivered in a firm, manly tone of voice.

same confidence and bravery you have hitherto displayed, there will be no occasion for me to compare the number of my troops with that of the enemy.

Consider, soldiers, not only your glory but even your SAFETY is at stake. Should we now retreat, it will be supposed that we fly before our enemies, and from that moment we shall appear as mean as the enemy will be judged formidable. It is in my power to make use of authority, and yet I employ entreaties only. Do not abandon, I conjure you, I do not say your King and Master, but your Pupil and Companion in battles. Do

not break in my hand that glorious palm which will soon, unless envy rob me of so great a glory, equal me to Hercules and Bacchus. What !+ do I then speak to the DEAF? Will no one listen to me, nor deign to answer? Alas! I am abandoned, I am betrayed, I am delivered up to the enemy. But I will advance still farther, though I go alone. The Scythians and Bactrians, more faithful than You, will follow wherever I lead them. Return, then, to your country, and boast, ye DESERTERS of your king, that you have abandoned him. As¶ for myself, I will either meet DEATH or VICTORY.

HAMILCAR'S SOLILOQUY.**

Itt hate their feastings; 'twould have been my death
To stay in that close room! This air is cool.
I felt my spirit choked. Gods; was I born
To bear those drunkards' tauntings on my hue,
My garb-Numidia's GARB! My native tongue

*Here is a transition to the tone and manner of entreaty.
+ Here is another transition to a strong feeling of indignation.
Apparent apprehension.
§ Most courageous manner.

Most contemptuous, disdainful manner.
The highest degree of enthusiasm.

**Hamilcar, a Moorish prince, is supposed to have just quitted, through disgust, a Roman banquet. Revenge is the prominent feeling throughout this piece.

++ The utterance is slow and emphatic, and the deportment most haughty, the eyes flashing with indignation.

Not tuneable to their Patrician ears?
Will the blow NEVER fall?

There's not a slave,t
Not the most beggar'd, broken, creeping wretch
That lives on alms and pillows on the ground,‡
But had done SOMETHING before now; and I-
A soldier and a king. The blood of kings,
Afric's last hope,-let months and years pass by,
And still live on a butt for ribald jests-
And more, to let Numidia's injuries sleep,
Like a chid infant's!

This is a mortal hour; the rising wind

Sounds angry, and those swift and dizzy clouds,
Made ghostly by the glances of the moon
Seem horse and chariots for the evil shapes
That scatter ruin here. ||

Come from your tombs,

Warriors of Afric!-from the desert's sands-
From the red field-the ever surging sea,
Though ye were buried deeper than the plumb
Of seamen ever sounded.

Hamilcar, Hannibal, Jugurtha-Come,
My royal father! from the midnight den
Where their curst Roman axes murdered thee!
Ye shall have VENGEANCE! Stoop upon my breast,
Clear it of man, and put therein a heart,

Like a destroying spirit's: make me fire,

The winged passion that can know no sleep,

Till VENGEANCE has been done; wrap up my soul
In darkness stronger than an iron mail,

Till it is subtle, deadly, deep as night,

The fist is here clenched with the most vindictive expression of

countenance.

+ The tone of voice should be here low, with a slow and emphatic

utterance.

A most powerful feeling of self-condemnation.

§ Here is a transition to a somewhat more sedate and composed manner, whilst the same revengeful feelings are still preserved. This requires an elevated and loud tone of voice.

Most violent and emphatic manner, with the most unsubdued feelvengeance;" the fist should be clenched and the teeth set.

ing at "

Close as coil'd aspics, still as tigers crouch'd,

But furious as them roused.

Let me fill ROME

With civil tumult, hate, conspiracy,

All dissolution, of all holy ties,

Till she has outraged Heaven, while I unseen,
Move like a spectre round a murderer's bed,
To start upon her DYING AGONY.

CROLY.

THE DOWNFALL OF POLAND.

Oh! sacred Truth! thy triumphs ceas'd awhile,
And Hope, thy sister, ceas'd with thee to smile,
When leagued Oppression pour'd to northern wars
Her whisker'd pandoors and her fierce hussars,
Wav'd her dread standard to the breeze of morn,
Peal'd her loud drum, and twang'd her trumpet horn;
Tumultuous horror brooded o'er the van,
Presaging wrath to POLAND and to MAN!

Warsaw's last champion from her height surveyed,
Wide o'er the fields a waste of ruin laid:

"Oh heaven!" he cried, "my bleeding country save,
Is there no hand on high to shield the brave?
Yet though destruction sweep those lovely plains,
Rise, fellow men! our country yet remains!
By that dread name we wave the sword on high
And swear for her to LIVE! with her to DIE!"
He said, and on the rampart heights array'd
His trusty warriors, few but undismay'd;
Firm paced and slow, a horrid front they form,
Still as the breeze, but dreadful as the storm ;
Low murmuring sounds along their banners fly,
REVENGE OF DEATH! the watchword and reply;
Then peal'd the notes omnipotent to charm,
And the loud tocsin tolled their last alarm!
In vain, alas! in vain, ye gallant few!

into

Solemn manner.
‡Vehemence.

+ Ardent, enthusiastic manner, rising § Narrative, with much solemnity. ¶ Plaintive tone and manner.

Strong emphasis, with a low tone.