'GOD scatters love on every side,
Freely among His children all,
And always hearts are lying open wide,
Wherein some grains may fall.

There is no wind but soweth seeds

Of a more true and open life,

Which burst, unlooked for, into high-souled deeds,

With wayside beauty rife.'

LOWELL.

BALLADS,

HEROIC AND DOMESTIC.

THE

REASON WHY.

A CORNISH BALLAD.

A GOOD Sword and a trusty hand,
A merry heart and true;
King James's men shall understand
What Cornish men can do.

And have they fixed the Where and When?
And shall Trelawney die?

Then twenty thousand Cornish men

Will know the reason why!

And shall they scorn Tre, Pol, and Pen?
And shall Trelawney die?

There's twenty thousand underground
Will know the reason why!

Out spake the Captain, brave and bold,
A gallant wight was he,—

‘Though London's Tower were Michael's hold, We'll set Trelawney free.

We'll cross the Tamar, hand to hand,

The Exe shall be no stay

Go, side by side, from strand to strand,

And who shall bid us nay?

And shall they scorn Tre, Pol, and Pen?
And shall Trelawney die?

There's twenty thousand Cornish men

Will know the reason why!

'And when we come to London wall,
A pleasant sight to view,—
Come forth, come forth, ye cowards all,
We're better men than you!
Trelawney, he's in keep and hold,
Trelawney, he may die ;

But twenty thousand Cornish men

Will know the reason why!

And shall they scorn Tre, Pol, and Pen?

And shall Trelawney die?

There's twenty thousand underground
Will know the reason why!'

R. S. HAWker.

THE SIEGE OF HENSBURG.

BRAVE news! brave news! the Emperor
Hath girded on his sword,

And swears by the rood, in an angry mood,
And eke by his knightly word,

That humbled Hensburg's towers shall be,
With all her boasted chivalry.

The brazen clarion's battle note

Hath sounded through the land;

And brave squire and knight, in their armour dight, Ay, many a gallant band,'

Have heard the summons far and near,

And come with falchion and with spear.

'Ho! to the rebel city, ho!

Let vengeance lead the way!'

And anon the sheen of their spears was seen,
As they rushed upon the fray.

Beneath where Hensburg's turrets frowned,
Great Conrade chose his vantage ground.

Far stretching o'er the fertile plain

His snow white tents were spread;
And the sweet night air, as it lingered there,
Caught the watchful sentry's tread.

Then o'er the city's battlement

The tell-tale breeze its echo sent.

Day after day the leaguer sat
Before that city's wall,

And yet, day by day, the proud Guelph cried 'Nay,
To the herald's warning call;
Heedless from morn to eventide

How many a famished mother died.

Weak childhood, and the aged man,
Wept-sorely wept for bread;

And pale Hunger seemed, as His wild eye gleamed
On the yet unburied dead,

As if he longed, alas! to share

The night dog's cold, unhallowed fare.

No longer Hensburg's banner floats;
Hushed is her battle-cry,

For a victor waits at her shattered gates,
And her sons are doomed to die.
But Hensburg's daughters yet shall prove
The saviours of the homes they love!

All glory to the Emperor,

The merciful and brave;

Sound, clarions, sound, tell the news around,
And ye drooping banners wave!
Hensburg's fair daughters, ye are free ;

Go forth, with all your 'braverie!'

'Bid them go forth,' the Emperor cried,
'Far from the scene of strife,
Whether matron staid, or the blushing maid,

Or the daughter, or the wife;

For ere yon sun hath left the sky,

Each rebel-male shall surely die.

'Bid them go forth,' the Emperor said,

'We wage not war with them;

Bid them all go free, with their "braverie,"
And each richly-valued gem;

Let each upon her person bear

That which she deemed her chi fest care.'

The city's gates are opened wide;

The leaguer stands amazed;

'Twas a glorious deed, and shall have its meed,
And by minstrel shall be praised,
For each had left her jewelled tire;
To bear a husband or a sire.

With faltering step each ladened one
At Conrade's feet appears;

In amaze he stood, but his thirst for blood
Was quenched by his falling tears;
The victor wept aloud to see
Devoted woman's constancy.

All glory to the Emperor,

All glory and renown!

He hath sheathed his sword, and his royal word Hath gone forth to save the town ;

For woman's love is mightier far

Than all the strategies of war.

JOHN RYAN.

From the BENTLEY BALLADS.

(By permission of Mr. Bentley.)

HOFER AT INNSBRUCK.

WHEN the noble peasant hero
Innsbruck had besieged and won,
All the youths, with merry music,
Gathered 'neath the midday sun;
Leaving business, games, or studies,
Round his house they form a ring;
There they cry, 'Long live our leader!'
And his valiant deeds they sing.

But he bade them all be silent-
'Cease your music, friends, be still,'
(Gravely, earnestly, he spake it,)
'We are fighting by God's will;
Not for merriment or pastime
Have I left my weeping wife,
Only in the hope of Heaven

Can I conquer in this strife.