leep the sleep that knows not breaking;
Dream of battled fields no more,
Days of danger, nights of waking.
In our isle's enchanted hall,
Hands unseen thy couch are strewing,
Fairy strains of music fall,
Every sense in slumber dewing.
Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er,
Dream of fighting fields no more:
Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking,
Morn of toil, nor night of waking.

"No rude sound shall reach thine ear,
Armour's clang, or war-steed champing,
Trump nor pibroch summon here
Mustering clan, or squadron tramping.
Yet the lark's shrill fife may come
At the daybreak from the fallow,
And the bittern sound his drum,
Booming from the sedgy shallow.
Ruder sounds shall none be near,
Guards nor warders challenge here,
Here's no war-steed's neigh and champing,
Shouting clans or squadrons stamping."

SCOTT: "The Lady of the Lake"

FISHING

One fine Thursday afternoon, Tom, having borrowed East's new rod,
started by himself to the river. He fished for some time with small
success, not a fish would rise to him; but as he prowled along the bank,
he was presently aware of mighty ones feeding in a pool on the opposite
side, under the shade of a huge willow-tree. The stream was deep here,
but some fifty yards below was a shallow, for which he made off
hot-foot; and forgetting landlords, keepers, solemn prohibitions of the
Doctor, and everything else, pulled up his trousers, plunged across, and
in three minutes was creeping along on all fours towards the clump of
willows.

It isn't often that great chub, or any other coarse fish, are in earnest
about anything; but just then they were thoroughly bent on feeding, and
in half an hour Master Tom had deposited three thumping fellows at the
foot of the giant willow. As he was baiting for a fourth pounder, and
just going to throw in again, he became aware of a man coming up the
bank not one hundred yards off. Another look told him that it was the
under-keeper. Could he reach the shallow before him? No, not carrying
his rod. Nothing for it but the tree. So Tom laid his bones to it,
shinning up as fast as he could and dragging up his rod after him. He
had just time to reach and crouch along upon a huge branch some ten feet
up, which stretched out over the river, when the keeper arrived at the
clump.

Tom's heart beat fast as he came under the tree; two steps more and