He looked at the mob, as they roared, with a stare,
  And took snuff again with a cynical air. 
  “I’m happy to give but a moment’s delight
  To the flower of my country agog for a sight.”

  Then he looked at the block, and with scented cravat
  Dusted room for his neck, gayly doffing his hat,
  Kissed his hand to a lady, bent low to the crowd,
  Then smiling, turned round to the headsman and bowed.

  “God save King James!” he cried bravely and shrill,
  And the cry reached the houses at foot of the hill,
  “My friend with the axe, a votre service,” he said;
  And ran his white thumb ’long the edge of the blade.

  When the multitude hissed he stood firm as a rock;
  Then kneeling, laid down his gay head on the block;
  He kissed a white rose,—­in a moment ’twas red
  With the life of the bravest of any that bled.

GEORGE WALTER THORNBURY.

* * * * *

GOD SAVE THE KING.

  God save our gracious king! 
  Long live our noble king! 
    God save the king! 
  Send him victorious,
  Happy and glorious,
  Long to reign over us—­
    God save the king!

  O Lord our God, arise! 
  Scatter his enemies,
    And make them fall;
  Confound their politics,
  Frustrate their knavish tricks;
  On him our hopes we fix,
    God save us all!

  Thy choicest gifts in store
  On him be pleased to pour;
    Long may he reign. 
  May he defend our laws,
  And ever give us cause,
  To sing with heart and voice—­
    God save the king!

HENRY CAREY.

* * * * *

VETERAN AND RECRUIT.

  He filled the crystal goblet
    With golden-beaded wine: 
  “Come, comrades, now, I bid ye—­
    ‘To the true love of mine!’

  “Her forehead’s pure and holy,
    Her hair is tangled gold,
  Her heart to me so tender,
    To others’ love is cold.

  “So drain your glasses empty
    And fill me another yet;
  Two glasses at least for the dearest
    And sweetest girl, Lisette.”

  Up rose a grizzled sergeant—­
    “My true love I give thee,
  Three true loves blent in one love,
    A soldier’s trinity.

  “Here’s to the flag we follow,
    Here’s to the land we serve,
  And here’s to holy honor
    That doth the two preserve.”

  Then rose they up around him,
    And raised their eyes above,
  And drank in solemn silence
    Unto the sergeant’s love.

EDWARD WENTWORTH HAZEWELL.

* * * * *

THE PRIVATE OF THE BUFFS;[A] OR, THE BRITISH SOLDIER IN CHINA.