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We have seen the unequal'd docility and obedience of these soldiers. We have seen this race proved by wholesale by drearier, yet more fearful tests the wound, the amputation, the shatter'd face or limb, the slow hot fever, long impatient anchorage in bed, and all the forms of maiming, operation and disease. Alas! America have we seen, though only in her early youth, already to hospital brought.

"Eve after eve that haggard anchorite Would haunt the desolated fane, and there Gaze at the ruin, often mutter low 'Vicisti Galilaee'; louder again, Spurning a shatter'd fragment of the God, 'Vicisti Galilaee! but when now Bathed in that lurid crimson ask'd 'Is earth On fire to the West? or is the Demon-god Wroth at his fall? and heard an answer 'Wake Thou deedless dreamer, lazying out a life Of self-suppression, not of selfless love. And once a flight of shadowy fighters crost The disk, and once, he thought, a shape with wings Came sweeping by him, and pointed to the West, And at his ear he heard a whisper 'Rome, And in his heart he cried 'The call of God! And call'd arose, and, slowly plunging down Thro' that disastrous glory, set his face By waste and field and town of alien tongue, Following a hundred sunsets, and the sphere Of westward-wheeling stars; and every dawn Struck from him his own shadow on to Rome.

The path lies o'er the sea, Invisible: and from the land we went, As to a floating city steering in, And gliding up her streets, as in a dream, So smoothly, silently by many a dome, Mosque-like, and many a stately portico, The statues ranged along an azure sky; By many a pile, in more than Eastern pride, Of old the residence of merchant kings; The fronts of some, tho' time had shatter'd them, Still glowing with the richest hues of art, As tho' the wealth within them had run o'er."

So like a shatter'd column lay the King; Not like that Arthur who, with lance in rest, From spur to plume a star of tournament, Shot thro' the lists of Camelot, and charged Before the eyes of ladles and of kings, Then loudly cried the bold Sir Bedivere: "Ah! my Lord Arthur, whither shall I go? Where shall I hide my forehead and my eyes?

Ship after ship, the whole night long, their high-built galleons came, Ship after ship, the whole night long, with her battle-thunder and flame; Ship after ship, the whole night long, drew back with her dead and her shame, For some were sunk, and many were shatter'd, and so could fight us no more God of battles, was ever a battle like this in the world before? For he said: "Fight on! fight on!"

But she, that rose the tallest of them all And fairest, laid his head upon her lap, And loosed the shatter'd casque, and chafed his hands, And call'd him by his name, complaining loud, And dropping bitter tears against a brow Striped with dark blood: for all his face was white And colourless, and like the withered moon Smote by the fresh beam of the springing east; And all his greaves and cuisses dash'd with drops Of onset; and the light and lustrous curls That made his forehead like a rising sun High from the dias-throne were parch'd with dust; Or, clotted into points and hanging loose, Mix'd with the knightly growth that fringed his lips.

Part of the Sheathing was gone from under the Larboard bow, part of the False Kiel was gone, and the remainder in such a Shatter'd Condition that we should be much better off if it was gone also; her Forefoot and some part of her Main Kiel was also damaged, but not Materially.

Meantime from Persia's hosts the deep'ning shout Answer'd their shout; no time for cold delay; But ship 'gainst ship its brazen beak impell'd. First to the charge a Grecian galley rush'd; Ill the Phoenician bore the rough attack Its sculptured prow all shatter'd. Each advanced, Daring an opposite.

"Poor child of danger, nursling of the storm, Sad are the woes that wreck thy manly form! Rocks, waves, and winds the shatter'd bark delay; Thy heart is sad, thy home is far away." Campbell. It was about midday, when the two Sea Lions opened their canvass, at the same moment, and prepared to quit Sealer's Land.

"Near Avon's ridgy bank there grows A willow of no vulgar size, That tree first heard poor Silvio's woes, And heard how bright were Laura's eyes. Its boughs were shade from heat or show'r, Its roots a moss-grown seat became; Its leaves would strew the maiden's bow'r, Its bark was shatter'd with her name!