THE

FAIRIES.

W. ALLINGHAM.

Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen,
We daren't go a-hunting
For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,

And white owl's feather!

Down along the rocky shore
Some make their home:
They live on crispy pancakes
Of yellow tide-foam;
Some in the reeds

Of the black mountain lake,
With frogs for their watch-dogs,
All night awake.

High on the hill-top
The old king sits;

He is now so old and gray,

He's nigh lost his wits. With a bridge of white mist

Columbkill he crosses, On his stately journeys

From Slieveleague to Rosses:

Or going up with music

On cold, starry nights,

To sup with the queen

Of the gay Northern Lights

They stole little Bridget

For seven years long;

When she came down again

Her friends were all gone.

THE HOSTAGE. DAMON AND PYTHIAS.

They took her lightly back,

Between the night and morrow;
They thought that she was fast asleep,
But she was dead with sorrow.
They have kept her ever since
Deep within the lakes,
On a bed of flag-leaves,
Watching till she wakes.

By the craggy hill-side,
Through the mosses bare,
They have planted thorn-trees
For pleasure here and there.
Is any man so daring

As dig them up in spite,

He shall find their sharpest thorns
In his bed at night.

Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen,
We daren't go a-hunting
For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,

And white owl's feather!

THE HOSTAGE. DAMON AND PYTHIAS.

J. CLARENCE MANGAN.

THEY seize in the tyrant of Syracuse' halls
A youth with a dagger in's vest:

He is bound by the tyrant's behest:

The tyrant beholds him—rage blanches his cheek: Why hiddest yon dagger, conspirator? Speak!""To pierce to the heart such as thou!"

'Wretch! Death on the cross is thy doom even now!"

"It is well," spake the youth; "I am harnessed for

death,

And I sue not thy sternness to spare;

Yet would I be granted one prayer ;

Three days would I ask, till my sister be wed :
As a hostage, I leave thee my friend in my stead;
If I be found false to my truth,

Nail him to thy cross without respite or ruth!"

Then smiled with a dark exultation the king,
And he spake, after brief meditation :
"I grant thee three days' preparation;
But see thou outstay not the term I allow,
Else, by the high thrones of Olympus I vow,
That if thou shalt go scathless and free,

The best blood of thy friend shall be forfeit for
thee!"

And Pythias repairs to his friend-"I am doomed To atone for my daring emprise

By death in its shamefullest guise;

But the monarch three days ere I perish allows,
Till I give a loved sister away to her spouse;
Thou, therefore, my hostage must be,

Till I come the third day, and again set thee free."

And Damon in silence embraces his friend,

And he gives himself up to the despot; While Pythias makes use of his respite :And ere the third morning in orient burning, Behold the devoted already returning

To save his friend ere it be later,

By dying himself the vile death of a traitor!

But the rain, the wild rain, dashes earthwards u floods,

Upswelling the deluging fountains;

Strong torrents rush down from the mountains,

THE HOSTAGE.

DAMON AND PYTHIAS.

89

And lo! as he reaches the deep river's border,
The bridgeworks give way in terrific disorder;

And the waves, with a roaring like thunder,
Sweep o'er the rent wrecks of the arches, and
under.

To and fro by the brink of that river he wanders;—
In vain he looks out through the offing—
The fiends of the tempest are scoffing
His outcries for aid ;-from the opposite strand
No pinnace puts off to convey him to land;

And, made mad by the stormy commotion,
The river-waves foam like the surges
of ocean.

Then he drops on his knees, and he raises his arms To Jupiter, Strength-and-Help giver

"Oh, stem the fierce force of the river!

The hours are advancing-noon wanes—in the west Soon Apollo will sink-and my zeal and my best Aspirations and hopes will be baffled

And Damon, my Damon, will die on the scaffold!"

But the tempest abates not, the rapid flood waits not; On, billow o'er billow come hasting,

Day, minute by minute, is wasting;

And daring the worst that the desperate dare,
He cast himself in with a noble despair;

And he buffets the tyrannous waves,

And Jupiter pities the struggler, and saves.

The hours will not linger; his speed is redoubled,
"Forth, faithfullest! bravest, exert thee!
The gods cannot surely desert thee!"
Alas, as hope springs in his bosom renewed,
A band of barbarians rush out of the wood,
And they block up the wanderer's path,
And they brandish their weapons in clamorous
wrath.

"What will ye ?" he cries. "I have nought but my

life,

And that must be yielded ere night;

Force me not to defend it by fight!"

But they swarm round him closer, that truculent band:

So he wrests the huge club from one savage's hand, And he fells the first four at his feet,

And the remnant, dismayed and astounded,
retreat.

The storm-burst is over, low glows the red sun
Making earth and air fainter and hotter;
The knees of the fugitive totter.

"Alas!" he cries, "have I then breasted the flood, Have I vanquished those wild men of rapine and blood. But to perish from languor and pain,

While my hostage, my friend, is my victim in vain ?"

When, hark! a cool sound, as of murmuring water! He hears it,-it bubbles,-it gushes ;

Hark! louder and louder it rushes!

He turns him, he searches, and lo! a pure stream Ripples forth from a rock, and shines out in the beam Of the sun ere he fireily sinks;

And the wanderer bathes his hot limbs and he drinks.

The sun looks his last!-On the oft-trodden pathway Hies homeward the weariful reaper,

The shadows of evening grow deeper;
When pressing and hurrying anxiously on,
Two strangers pass Pythias-and list! he hears one
To the other exclaiming, "Oh, shame on

The wretch that betrayed the magnanimous
Damon !"

Then Horror lends wings to his faltering feet,
And he dashes in agony onward,

And soon a few roofs, looking sunward;