the sun!
And a wounded man approaches;--I'm blind, and
cannot see,
Yet sure I am that sturdy step my master's step
must be!"

"I've brought thee back thy banner, wench, from
as rude and red a fray,
As e'er was proof of soldier's thew or theme for
minstrel's lay!
Here, Hubert, bring the silver bowl, and liquor
quantum suff.,
I'll make a shift to drain it yet, ere I part with
boots and buff;--
Though Guy through many a gaping wound is breathing
forth his life,
And I come to thee a landless man, my fond and
faithful wife!

"Sweet! we will fill our money-bags, and freight
a ship for France,
And mourn in merry Paris for this poor land's
mischance:
For if the worst befall me, why, better axe
and rope,
Than life with Lenthal for a king, and Peters
for a pope!
Alas! alas! my gallant Guy!--curse on the
crop-eared boor,
Who sent me with my standard, on foot from
Marston Moor!"

W. M. Praed

LONDON

The huge city perhaps never impressed the imagination more than when
approaching it by night on the top of a coach you saw its numberless
lights flaring, as Tennyson says "like a dreary dawn." The most
impressive approach is now by the river through the infinitude of docks,
quays, and shipping. London is not a city, but a province of brick and
stone. Hardly even from the top of St. Paul's or of the Monument can
anything like a view of the city as a whole be obtained. It is
indispensable, however, to make one or the other of those ascents when a
clear day can be found, not so much because the view is fine, as because
you will get a sensation of vastness and multitude not easily to be
forgotten. There is or was, not long ago, a point on the ridge that
connects Hampstead with Highgate from which, as you looked over London
to the Surrey Hills beyond, the modern Babylon presented something like
the aspect of a city. The ancient Babylon may have vied with London in
circumference, but the greater part of its area was occupied by open
spaces; the modern Babylon is a dense mass of humanity. London with its
suburbs has five millions of inhabitants, and still it grows. It grows
through the passion which seems to be seizing mankind everywhere, on
this continent as well as in Europe, for emigration from the country
into the town, not only as the centre of wealth and employment, b