Part 19 (1/2)

Oft, in the stilly night, Ere sluht Of other days around me; The smiles, the tears, Of boyhood's years, The words of love then spoken; The eyes that shone, Now dione, The cheerful hearts now broken!

Thus, in the stilly night, Ere sluht Of other days around ether, I've seen around me fall, Like leaves in wintry weather; I feel like one, Who treads alone Soarlands dead, And all but he departed!

Thus, in the stilly night, Ere sluht Of other days around me

Moore

THE HARP THAT ONCE THROUGH TARA'S HALLS

The harp that once through Tara's halls The soul of s as mute on Tara's walls As if that soul were fled

So sleeps the pride of forlory's thrill is o'er, And hearts that once beat high for praise, Now feel that pulse no ht The harp of Tara swells; The chord alone, that breaks at night, Its tale of ruin tells

Thus Freedoives, Is when sonant breaks, To show that still she lives

Moore

HUDSON STRAIT

Hudson Strait opens from the Atlantic between Resolution Island on the north and the button Islands on the south From point to point, this end of the strait is forty-five es' Island and Nottingham Island, is a distance of thirty-five miles From east to west, the straits are four hundred and fifty --wider at the east where the south side is known as Ungava Bay, contracting at the west, to the Upper Narrows The south side of the strait is Labrador; the north, Baffin's Land Both sides are lofty, rocky, cavernous shores lashed by a tide that rises in places as high as thirty-five feet and runs in calranite islands dot the north shore in groups that afford harbourage, but all shores present an adaes sharp as a knife or else rounded hard to have withstood and cut the tre world suddenly contracted to forty miles, which Davis Strait pours down at the east end and Fox Channel at the west

Seven hundred feet is considered a good-sized hill; one thousand feet, a mountain Both the north and the south sides of the straits rise two thousand feet in places Through these rock walls ice has poured and torn and ripped a way since the ice age preceding history, cutting a great channel to the Atlantic Here, the iron walls suddenly break to secluded silent valleys, ht Down these valleys pour the clear streareen, setting the silence echoing with the tinkle of cataracts over so the air with the voice of ator--Coates--describes the beat of the angry tide at the rock base and the silver voice of the reat cathedral organ sounding its diapason to the glory of God in this peopleless wilderness

Perhaps the kyacks of some solitary Eski, -covered valleys like sea-birds; but it is only when the Eski here, or the shi+ps of the whalers and fur traders are passing up and down--that there is any sign of human habitation on the straits

Walruson the pink granite islands in huge herds Polar bears flounder from icepan to icepan The arctic hare, white as snow but for the great bulging black eye, bounds over the boulders Snow buntings, whistling swans, snow geese, ducks in myriads--flacker and clacker and hold soleh this were their real and for all time

Of a tre has the ice world been grinding through this narrow channel for billions of years No fear of shoals to thein a whirlpool and the inco tide h and a wind roars between the high shores like a bellows--then it is that the straits roll and pitch and funnel their waters into black troughs where the shi+ps go down ”Undertow,” the old Hudson's Bay captains called the suck of the tide against the ice wall; and that black hole, where the lue betall of ice and wall of water, hat the er was just a plain crush, getting nipped between two icepans rearing and plunging like fighting stallions, with the ice blocks going off like pistol shots or s either for the old sailing vessels of the fur traders or thevessels and the whaling fleets have navigated these straits for two hundred years

Agnes C Laut: ”The Conquest of the Great Northwest”

Good name in man and woman, Is the immediate jewel of their souls: Who steals ; 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands; But he that filches froood name Robs me of that which not enriches him, And makes me poor indeed

Shakespeare

SCOTS WHA HAE

Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled, Scots, whaory bed, Or to victorie

Now's the day, and now's the hour; See the front o' battle lour: See approach proud Edward's power-- Chains and slaverie!

Wha will be a traitor knave?