That we fought the battle bravely, and when the day was

done,

Full many a corpse lay ghastly pale, beneath the setting

sun.

And 'mid the dead and dying were some grown old in

wars,

The death-wound on their gallant breasts, the last of many scars;

And some were young, and suddenly beheld life's morn decline,

And one had come from Bingen,— fair Bingen on the Rhine.

3.

"Tell my mother, that her other son shall comfort her

old age;

For I was still a truant bird, that thought his home a

cage.

For my father was a soldier, and even as a child

My heart leaped forth to hear him tell of struggles fierce

and wild;

And when he died, and left us to divide his scanty hoard, I let them take whate'er they would, but kept my

father's sword;

And with boyish love I hung it where the bright light used to shine,

On the cottage wall at Bingen, — calm Bingen on the Rhine.

4.

"Tell my sister not to weep for me, and sob with droop

ing head,

When the troops come marching home again, with glad and gallant tread;

But to look upon them proudly, with a calm and stead

fast eye,

For her brother was a soldier, too, and not afraid to die :

And if a comrade seek her love, I ask her in my name,
To listen to him kindly, without regret or shame;
And to hang the old sword in its place (my father's sword
and mine),

For the honor of old Bingen,-dear Bingen on the Rhine.

5.

"There's another not a sister; in the happy days gone

by;

You'd have known her by the merriment that sparkled in her eye;

Too innocent for coquetry, too fond for idle scorning,— O, friend! I fear the lightest heart makes sometimes heaviest mourning!

Tell her the last night of my life,- (for ere the moon be

risen,

My body will be out of pain, my soul be out of prison,)— I dreamed I stood with her, and saw the yellow sunlight

shine

On the vine-clad hills of Bingen,- fair Bingen on the Rhine.

6.

"I saw the blue Rhine sweep along,— I heard, or seemed

to hear,

The German songs we used to sing, in chorus sweet and

clear;

And down the pleasant river, and up the slanting hill, The echoing chorus sounded, through the evening calm and still;

And her glad blue eyes were on me, as we passed with friendly talk,

Down many a path beloved of yore, and well-remembered walk;

And her little hand lay lightly, confidingly in mine,— But we'll meet no more at Bingen,- loved Bingen on the Rhine."

7.

His trembling voice grew faint and hoarse,- his grasp was childish weak,—

His eyes put on a dying look, — he sighed and ceased to speak :

His comrade bent to lift him, but the spark of life had

fled,

The soldier of the Legion in a foreign land is dead!

And the soft moon rose up slowly, and calmly she looked

down

On the red sand of the battle-field, with bloody corses

strewn ;

Yes, calmly on that dreadful scene her pale light seemed to shine,

As it shone on distant Bingen, — fair Bingen on the
Rhine.
Mrs. Caroline E. S. Norton.

LESSON 103.

THE WIND IN A FROLIC.

THE wind, one morning, sprang up from sleep,

Saying, "Now for a frolic! now for a leap!

Now for a madcap galloping chase!

I'll make a commotion in every place!"

2.

So it swept with a bustle right through a great town,
Creaking the signs, and scattering down

Shutters, and whisking, with merciless squalls,
Old women's bonnets and gingerbread stalls.
There never was heard a much lustier shout,
As the apples and oranges tumbled about;
And the urchins, that stand with their thievish eyes
Forever on watch, ran off each with a prize.

3.

Then away to the fields it went blustering and humming,
And the cattle all wondered whatever was coming.
It plucked by their tails the grave, matronly cows,
And tossed the colts' manes all about their brows,
Till, offended at such a familiar salute,

They all turned their backs, and stood silently mute.

4.

So on it went, capering and playing its pranks;
Whistling with reeds on the broad river banks;
Puffing the birds, as they sat on the spray,
Or the traveler grave on the king's highway.

5.

It was not too nice to bustle the bags

Of the beggar, and flutter his dirty rags.

'T was so bold that it feared not to play its joke With the doctor's wig, and the gentleman's cloak.

6.

Through the forest it roared, and cried gayly, "Now,
You sturdy old oaks, I'll make you bow!"

And it made them bow without more ado,

Or it cracked their great branches through and through.

7.

Then it rushed, like a monster, o'er cottage and farm,
Striking their inmates with sudden alarm;

And they ran out, like bees, in a midsummer swarm.
There were dames, with their kerchiefs tied over their

caps,

To see if their poultry were free from mishaps;

The turkeys they gobbled, the geese screamed aloud,
And the hens crept to roost, in a terrified crowd:

There was rearing of ladders, and logs laying on,
Where the thatch from the roof threatened soon to be

But the wind had passed on, and had met in a lane
With a schoolboy, who panted and struggled in vain ;
For it tossed him, and twirled him, then passed, and he
stood

With his hat in a pool and his shoe in the mud.

Wm. Howitt.

LESSON 104.

THE SOLDIER'S REST.

OLDIER, rest! thy warfare o'er,

SOLDIE

Sleep the sleep that knows no breaking;

Dream of battle-fields no more,

Days of danger, nights of waking,

In our isle's enchanted hall,

Hands unseen thy couch are strewing,

Fairy strains of music fall,

Every sense in slumber dewing.

Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er,

Sleep the sleep that knows no breaking;

Dream of battle-fields no more,

Morn of toil, nor night of waking.

2. No rude sound shall reach thine ear,
Armor's clang, or war-steed champing,
Trump nor pibroch summon here,
Mustering clan, or squadron tramping.
Yet the lark's shrill fife may come,
At the daybreak from the fallow,
And the bittern sound his drum,
Booming from the sedgy shallow.