And what will folks say, if they see you afraid?

It reflects upon me, as I knew not my trade;
Courage, friend, for to-day is your period of sorrow;
And things will go better, believe me, to-morrow.
Derry down, &c.

To-morrow! our hero replied in a fright;

He that's hang'd before noon, ought to think of to-night. Tell your beads, quoth the priest, and be fairly truss'd up, For you surely to-night shall in paradise sup.

Derry down, &c.

Alas! quoth the 'squire, howe'er sumptuous the treat,
Parbleu! I shall have little stomach to eat;

I should therefore esteem it great favour and grace,
Would you be so kind as to go in my place.

Derry down, &c.

That I would, quoth the father, and thank you to boot; But our actions, you know, with our duty must suit;

The feast I proposed to you, I cannot taste,

For this night by our order is mark'd for a fast.
Derry down, &c.

Then, turning about to the hangman, he said,
Despatch me, I prythee, this troublesome blade;
For thy cord and my cord both equally tie,
And we live by the gold for which other men die.
Derry down, &c.

THE SPACIOUS FIRMAMENT.

BY JOSEPH ADDISON.

[JOSEPH ADDISON was born at Milston, in 1672. He was educated at the Charterhouse School, and afterwards at Queen's College and Magdalen College, Oxford, where he distinguished himself for Latin poetry. In 1699 he obtained a pension of 300l. to enable him to travel; and when he returned he published a pleasing account of his wanderings. Some time afterwards he was made Commissioner of Appeals, and then Under-Secretary of State. When the Marquis of Wharton was made Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, he accompanied him to that country; and, while there, was made Keeper of the Irish Records. He married the Countess Dowager of Warwick, to whose son he had been tutor; but the union was unfortunate. Both his and Dryden's fate, in marrying noble wives, are warnings to ambitious literary men. Addison became Secretary of State in 1717; but, unable to defend the measures of Government, he resigned the office, on a pension of 1,500/. a year. He died in 1719.

Dr. Johnson asserts that any one desirous of acquiring an English style of the highest excellence "must give his days and nights to the volumes of Addison." He contributed a great number of admirable papers to the Spectator and other periodicals, which have become a portion of English classical literature. Besides his literary excellence, the tendency of his writings is to advance the cause of religion and virtue. One of his last efforts was a defence of the Christian religion; and the portion which has been published shows how much reason there is to regret that he did not live to complete it.]

THE spacious firmament on high,

With all the blue ethereal sky,

And spangled heavens, a shining frame,

Their great Original proclaim:

Th' unwearied sun from day to day

Does his Creator's power display,

And publishes to every land

The work of an Almighty hand.

Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the list ning earth

Repeats the story of her birth:

Whilst all the stars that round her burn,

And all the planets in their turn,

Confirm the tidings as they roll,

And spread the truth from pole to pole.

What, though in solemn silence, all
Move round the dark terrestrial ball?
What though nor real voice nor sound
Amid their radiant orbs be found?
In reason's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice,
For ever singing, as they shine,
The hand that made us is divine.

THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM.

JOSEPH ADDISON,

BUT now the trumpet terrible from far,
In shriller clangours animates the war;
Confed'rate drums in fuller concert beat,
And echoing hills the loud alarm repeat:
Gallia's proud standards to Bavaria's join'd,
Unfurl their gilded lilies in the wind;
The daring prince his blasted hopes renews,
And while the thick embattled host he views

Stretch'd out in deep array, and dreadful length,
His heart dilates, and glories in his strength.

The fatal day its mighty course began,
That the grieved world had long desired in vain :
States that their new captivity bemoan'd,

Armies of martyrs that in exile groan'd,

Sighs from the depth of gloomy dungeons heard,
And prayers in bitterness of soul preferr'd;
Europe's loud cries, that Providence assail'd,
And Anna's ardent vows, at length prevail'd;
The day was come when Heav'n design'd to show
His care and conduct of the world below.

Behold, in awful march and dread array The long-extended squadrons shape their way! Death, in approaching, terrible, imparts An anxious horror to the bravest hearts; Yet do their beating breasts demand the strife, And thirst of glory quells the love of life. No vulgar fears can British minds control; Heat of revenge, and noble pride of soul, O'erlook the foe, advantaged by his post, Lessen his numbers, and contract his host; Though fens and floods possess'd the middle space, That unprovoked they would have fear'd to pass; Nor fens nor floods can stop Britannia's bands, When her proud foe ranged on their borders stands.