Part 17 (1/2)

The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave-- For the deck it was their field of fahty Nelson fell Your h the deep, While the stor, And the stormy winds do blow

Britannia needs no bulwarks, No towers along the steep; Her march is o'er the mountain waves, Her home is on the deep

With thunders from her native oak She quells the floods below-- As they roar on the shore, When the stor, And the storland Shall yet terrific burn, Till danger's troubled night depart And the star of peace return

Then, then, ye ocean-warriors!

Our song and feast shall flow To the fame of your naht is heard no more, And the storm has ceased to blow

Thomas Campbell

It is the land that freeirt with friends or foes A overnment, A land of old and just renown, Where freedom broadens slowly down From precedent to precedent

Tennyson

INSTRUCTION

Hear, ye children, the instruction of a father, and attend to know understanding Get wisdoet it not; neither decline from the words of my mouth Forsake her not, and she shall preserve thee: love her, and she shall keep thee Wisdoet wisdo Exalt her, and she shall pro thee to honour, when thou dost erace: a crown of glory shall she deliver to thee

My son, attend to s Let them not depart from thine eyes; keep them in the midst of thine heart For they are life unto those that find them and health to all their flesh

Keep thy heart with all diligence; for out of it are the issues of life

Put away from thee a froward mouth, and perverse lips put far froht on, and let thine eyelids look straight before thee Ponder the path of thy feet, and let all thy ways be established

Turn not to the right hand nor to the left: remove thy foot from evil

Proverbs, IV

HOME THOUGHTS FROM ABROAD

Oh, to be in England Now that April's there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, sohs and the brushwood sheaf Round the els on the orchard bough In England--now!

And after April, when May follows, And the white-throat builds, and all the ss!

Hark! where e Leans to the field and scatters on the clover Blossoe-- That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, Lest you should think he never could recapture The first fine careless rapture!

And though the fields look rough with hoary dew, All will be gay when noontide wakes anew The buttercups, the little children's dower, --Far brighter than this gaudy