Eagles which Cæsar's hand had fed, A dozing empire meanly gave In crash of battle, thick and dark, The war-worn staves, the crests of gold, To screen the time-stains on our wall! Beneath the war-flags' faded fold On magic canvas there. The tired face of "baby Charles " Half pride and half despair, To cozen or to dare. His steel-clad charger he bestrides, As if to smite the Ironsides, When Rupert with his squadron rides; Yet, such his gloomy brow and eye, You wonder if he will not try To lift him from his care. Hold still your truncheon! If it moves, The ire of Cromwell's rage it braves! For the next picture shows The grim Protector on his steed, Ready to pray, to strike, to lead,— Dare all for England, which he saves, New England, which he loves. These are Vandyck's. "Tis Kneller there Yet, as of old, the virgin Queen, Rests on a black "Queen's arm." Beneath those forms another band, Story and Greenough shall compel Franklin still point the commonplace Of Liberty and Law. Adams shall look in Otis' face There, in New England's well-earned place, VIII. THE ISLANDS AND THE FORTS. PERHAPS mamma will be afraid of being upset in a boat and drowned. Perhaps she will be afraid that the boys and girls will be. But if not--if mamma and papa are both disposed to take a comfortable boat, with a skillful skipper, at one of the boat landings— I will tell you of a very pleasant excursion which you may make, all of you, and you shall come home safe, and you shall thank me for giving you the hint. I should say that as good a way to begin as any, would be to take one of the street cars which goes out to the eastern end of South Boston. If you find you are in another South Boston car, transfer into something which will take you to the Marine Park at City Point. There let papa look 136 |