e the battle by quarreling with and abusing
each other, like Grecian heroes. They are both bullies, but Hurra is
brave and Magnus a craven. Chatterton's sarcastic humour plays them off
admirably. The result of the struggle between the two armies is pithily
announced by one of the fugitives:--

"Fly, fly, ye Danes! Magnus the chief is slain;
The Saxons come with Ella at their head:
Fly, fly, _this is the kingdom of the dead_."

In this drama is the exquisite melody, "O, sing unto my roundelay!" with
which every one is familiar, as it is introduced into all our popular
selections from the poets.

Here is a cunning description of dawn.

"The morn begins along the east to sheen,
_Darkling the light doth on the waters play_;
The faint red flame slow creepeth o'er the green,
To chase the murkiness of night away,
Swift flies the hour that will bring out the day.
The soft dew falleth on the greening grass;
The shepherd-maiden, dighting her array,
_Scarce sees her visage in the wavy glass_."

Such extracts do not, and are not intended to, convey any notion of
Chatterton's dramatic power in this play. Mere extracts would not do
justice to that, and therefore we confine ourselves to selections of a
few out of many passages that can stand independent of plot or action,
without detriment to their effect. The same remark will not apply to the
next piece, or rather fragment. Godwin, a Tragedy, by Thomas Rowley. It
is short, and the dramatic interest weak. In the following noble chorus,
however, we recognise the genius of Chatterton:--

"When Freedom, drest in blood-stained vest,
To every knight her war-song sung,
Upon her head wild weeds were spread,
A gory broadsword by her hung.
She paced along the heath,
She heard the voice of death.

"Pale-eyed Affright, his heart of silver hue,
In vain essay'd her bosom to congeal:
She heard inflamed the shrieking voice of Woe,
And cry of owls along the sadden'd vale.
She shook the pointed spear,
On high she raised her shield;
Her foemen all appear,
And fly along the field.

"Power, with his head uplifted to the skies,
His spear a sunbeam and his shield a star,
Like two bright-burning meteors rolls his eyes,
Stamps with his iron feet, and sounds to war.
She sits upon a rock,
She