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SELECT POETRY

“ Speak, fathét !” once again he cried,

“If I may yet be gone!

And" but the booming’ shots replied,
And fast the flames rolled on.

Upon his brow he felt their breath,
And in his waving hair ;

And looked from that lone post of death
In still, yet brave despair !

He shouted yet once more aloud,
“ My father! must I stay ?”

While o’er him fast, through sail and shroud,
The wreathing fires made way,

They wrapped the ship in splendour wild,
They caught the flag on high,

And streamed above the gallant child,
Like banners in the sky.

Then came a burst of thunder sound—
The boy—oh! where was he ?
Ask of the winds, that far around
With fragments strewed the sea,
With mast and helm and pennon* fair,
That well had borne their part—
But the noblest thing that perished there,
Was that young faithful heart.
Mrs. Hemans.

4} Booming—rushing with great noise and tumult,
2 Pennon—a stnall flag or banner.