"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.
["Some Seiks, and a private of the Buffs, having remained behind with the grog carts, fell into the hands of the Chinese. On the next day they were brought before the authorities and ordered to perform Kotou. The Seiks obeyed, but Moyse, the English soldier, declared he would not prostrate himself before any Chinaman alive, and was immediately knocked upon the head, and his body thrown upon a dunghill."—China Correspondent of the London Times.]
Last night, among his fellow roughs,
He jested, quaffed, and swore;
A drunken private of the Buffs,
Who never looked before.
To-day, beneath the foeman's frown,
He stands in Elgin's place,
Ambassador from Britain's crown,
And type of all her race.