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Come uppe, Whitefoot; come uppe, Lightfoot, Quit the stalks of parsley hollow,

Hollow, hollow; Come uppe, Jetty, rise and follow,From the clovers lift your head; Come uppe, Whitefoot; come uppe, Lightfoot;

Come uppe, Jetty, rise and follow, Jetty, to the milking shed.”

V.

Alle fresh the level pasture lay,
And not a shadowe mote be seene,
Save where, full fyve good miles away,

The steeple towered from out the greene;
And lo! the great bell farre and wide
Was heard in all the country-side,
That Saturday at eventide.

VI.

I looked without, and lo! my sonne

Came riding downe with might and main; He raised a shout as he drew on,

Till all the welkin rang again,“ Elizabeth! Elizabeth !” (A sweeter woman ne'er drew breath Than my sonne's wife, Elizabeth.)

VII.

“The olde sea-wall (he cried) is downe;

The rising tide comes on a pace, And boats adrift in yonder towne

Go sailing uppe the market-place.” He shook as one that looks on death: “God save you, mother!" straight he saith; “Where is my wife, Elizabeth ?”

VIII.

“Good sonne, where Lindis winds away,

With her two bairns I marked her long; And ere yon bells beganne to play,

Afar I heard her milking-song."

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Upon the roofe we sate that night,

The noise of bells went sweeping by; I marked the lofty beacon-light

Stream from the church-tower, red and highA lurid mark and dread to see; And awesome bells they were to me, That in the dark rang “Enderby.”

XII.

They rang the sailor lads to guide

From roofe to roofe who fearless rowed; And I-my sonne was at my side,

And yet the ruddy beacon glowed; And yet he moaned beneath his breath, “O, come in life, or come in death! (), lost! my love, Elizabeth !"

* Eygre (ā'-gur), an immense tidal wave

XIII.

And didst thou visit him no more?

Thou didst, thou didst, my daughter deare; The waters laid thee at his doore,

Ere yet the early dawn was clear. Thy pretty bairns in fast embrace, The lifted sun shone on thy face, Downe drifted to thy dwelling-place.

XIV.

That flow strewed wrecks about the grass,

That ebbe swept out the flocks to sea;
A fatal ebbe and flow, alas !

To many more than myne and me:
But each will mourn his own (she saith),
And sweeter woman ne'er drew breath
Than my sonne's wife, Elizabeth.

XV.

I shall never hear her more
By the reedy Lindis shore,
“ Cusha! Cusha! Cusha !" calling,
Ere the early dews be falling,-
I shall never hear her song,
“Cusha! Cusha!” all along
Where the sunny Lindis floweth,

Goeth, floweth,
From the meads where melick groweth,
Where the water, winding down,
Onward floweth to the town.

XVI.

I shall never see her more
Where the reeds and rushes quiver,

Shiver, quiver;
Stand beside the sobbing river,
Sobbing, throbbing, in its falling
To the sandy, lonesome shore.

JEAN INGELCE-bridged.

IT

CVI.-TOUSSAINT'S LAST STRUGGLES FOR

HAYTI. T was 1801. The Frenchmen who lingered on the

island described its prosperity and order as almost incredible. You might trust a child with a bag of gold to go from Samana to Port-au-Prince without risk. Peace was in every household; the valleys laughed with fertility; culture climbed the mountains; the commerce of the world was represented in its harbors. At this time Europe concluded the Peace of Amiens, and Napoleon took his seat on the throne of France. He glanced his eyes across the Atlantic, and, with a single stroke of his pen, reduced Cayenne and Martinique back into chains. He then said to his council, “What shall I do with St. Domingo?” The slaveholders said, “Give it to us.”

2. Colonel Vincent, who had been private secretary to Toussaint,* wrote a letter to Napoleon, in which he said: “Sire, leave it alone; it is the happiest spot in your dominions; God raised this man to govern; races melt under his hand. He has saved you this island; for I know of my own knowledge that when the republic could not have lifted a finger to prevent it, George III. offered him any title and any revenue if he would hold the island under the British crown. He refused, and saved it for France.”

3. Napoleon turned away from his council, and is said to have remarked, "I have sixty thousand republican soldiers: I must find them something to do." He meant to say, "I am about to seize the crown; I dare not do it in the faces of sixty thousand republican soldiers: I must give them some work at a distance to do.” He resolved to crush Toussaint, and sent against him an army, giving to General Leclerc thirty thousand of his best troops, with orders to re-introduce slavery.

4. Mounting his horse, and riding to the eastern end of the island, Toussaint looked out on a sight such as no native had ever seen before. Sixty ships of the line, crowded by the best soldiers of Europe, rounded the point. They were soldiers who had never yet met an equal, whose tread, like Cæsar's, had shaken Europe,-soldiers who had scaled the pyramids and planted the French banners on the walls of Rome. He looked a moment, counted the flotilla, let the reins fall on the neck of his horse, and, turning to Cristophe, exclaimed: "All France is come to Hayti; they can only come to make us slaves; and we are lost!” He then recognized the only mistake of his life,-his confidence in Bonaparte, which had led him to disband his army.

* Pronounced Too-sånt'.

5. Returning to the hills, he issued the only proclamation which bears his name and breathes vengeance: “My children, France comes to make us slaves. God gave us liberty; France has no right to take it away. Burn the cities, destroy the harvests, tear up the roads with cannon, poison the wells, show the white man the hell he comes to make;” and he was obeyed.

6. When the great William of Orange saw Louis XIV. cover Holland with troops, he said, “Break down the dikes, give Holland back to ocean;" and Europe said, “Sublime!” When Alexander saw the armies of France descend upon Russia, he said, “ Burn Moscow, starve back the invaders ;” and Europe said, “Sublime!" This black saw all Europe marshaled to crush him, and gave to his people the same heroic example of defiance.

7. It is true, the scene grows bloodier as we proceed. But, remember, the white man fitly accompanied his infamous attempt to reduce freemen to slavery with every bloody and cruel device that bitter and shameless hate could invent. Aristocracy is always cruel. The black man met the attempt, as every such attempt should be met, with war to the hilt. In his first struggle to gain his freedom he had been generous and merciful, saved lives and pardoned enemies, as the people in every age and clime have always done when rising against aristocrats. Now, to save his liherty, the negro exhausted every means, seized every weapon

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