but the latitude of Virginia is not sufficiently different from our own for any star, which is invisible to us, to be at all high above the horizon.

63. sacred tree. The laurel, sacred to Apollo, the god of poetry.

68. Hakluyt. The historian of the voyages of English sailors was in all probability a member of the company for planting Virginia.


Sir Walter Raleigh was 'the most brilliant and many-sided of the Devonshire heroes of Elizabeth's reign' (Tout). Between 1580 and 1590 he had fought in the Irish wars; accompanied his half-brother, Sir Humphrey Gilbert, to Newfoundland ; established himself as a Court favourite; made three attempts to colonize Virginia; and as Captain of the Guard organized the defence of England against the Armada. In the reign of James I, he became involved in the Arabella Stuart Plot and was sentenced to death. He was not, however, executed but imprisoned in the Tower, where he wrote his History of the World. In 1617 he persuaded the King to release him that he might conduct an expedition to Guiana in search of gold. On the Orinoco river he was attacked by the Spaniards, lost his son, and came back in 1618 a ruined man, to be meanly sacrificed by James, who, departing from Elizabeth's policy, was attempting to form a close alliance with Spain.

His last words written in the Gate-House at Westminster were:

Even such is time, that takes on trust
Our youth, our joys, our all we have,
And pays us but with age and dust;
Who in the dark and silent grave,
When we have wandered all our ways,
Shuts up the story of our days!

But from this earth, this grave, this dust,
The Lord shall raise me up, I trust!

Go, Soul, the Body's guest,
Upon a thankless arrant;
Fear not to touch the best!
The truth shall be thy warrant !
Go, since I needs must die,
And give the World the lie.

2. arrant] errand.


Go, tell the Court, it glows
And shines like rotten wood!
Say to the Church, it shows
What's good; and doth no good!
If Church and Court reply,
Then give them both the lie.

Tell Potentates, they live
Acting by others' action;
Not loved unless they give;
Not strong, but by affection.
If Potentates reply,

Give Potentates the lie!

Tell men of high condition,
That manage the Estate,
Their purpose is ambition;
Their practice, only hate!

And if they once reply,

Then give them all the lie!






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The Pilgrim Fathers', separatists from and persecuted by the Established Church, sailed across the Atlantic to make a home where they might have freedom of worship. Half their numbers died of privation and disease within the first year, but the remainder resolutely held on, to establish on a firm footing the first of the New England group of colonies.

THE breaking waves dashed high

On a stern and rock-bound coast,
And the woods against a stormy sky
Their giant branches tossed.

And the heavy night hung dark

The hills and waters o'er,

When a band of exiles moored their bark

On the wild New England shore.

Not as the conqueror comes,
They, the true-hearted, came;

Not with the roll of the stirring drums,
And the trumpet that sings of fame.

Not as the flying come,

In silence and in fear:

They shook the depths of the desert gloom
With their hymns of lofty cheer.

Amidst the storm they sang,

And the stars heard, and the sea:

And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang

To the anthem of the free!

The ocean eagle soared

From his nest by the white wave's foam: And the rocking pines of the forest roared,This was their welcome home!

There were men with hoary hair
Amidst that pilgrim band:-

Why had they come to wither there,
Away from their childhood's land?






There was woman's fearless eye,

Lit by her deep love's truth;


There was manhood's brow serenely high,
And the fiery heart of youth.

What sought they thus afar?

Bright jewels of the mine?

The wealth of seas, the spoils of war?
They sought a faith's pure shrine!


Aye, call it holy ground,

The soil where first they trod:

They have left unstained what there they found,Freedom to worship God.





In 1641, about a year before the beginning of the Great Rebellion, Strafford was impeached by the House of Commons for treason, especially in urging Charles I to use the Irish army against the English and Scots. The feeling against StraffordCharles's most able supporter-was embittered by the fact that he had originally been on the side of the Parliament. As it became doubtful whether the legal interpretation would admit of conviction, the impeachment was dropped, and, instead, the Commons proceeded to an act of attainder, by which, without any trial, they were able simply to cast a vote enacting that Strafford should be executed.

SCENE: THE TOWER. [STRAFFORD has been sitting with his children.]


Go, William! Anne, try o'er your [The children retire.

song again!

They shall be loyal, friend, at all events.

I know your message: you have nothing new 5
To tell me from the first I guessed as much.

I know, instead of coming here himself
Leading me forth in public by the hand,
The King prefers to leave the door ajar
As though I were escaping-bids me trudge
While the mob gapes upon some show prepared
On the other side of the river! Give at once
His order of release! I've heard, as well,
Of certain poor manoeuvrings to avoid
The granting pardon at his proper risk;
First, he must prattle somewhat to the Lords,
Must talk a trifle with the Commons first,



Be grieved I should abuse his confidence,

And far from blaming them, and...Where's the order? Hollis. Spare me!

Strafford. away?

Why, he'd not have me steal

With an old doublet and a steeple hat


Like Prynne's? Be smuggled into France, perhaps?
Hollis, 'tis for my children! 'Twas for them
I first consented to stand day by day
And give your Puritans the best of words.
What's in that boy of mine that he should
Son to a prison-breaker? I shall stay
And he'll stay with me. Charles should know as


He too has children!



[Turning to HOLLIS'S companion.] Sir, you feel for me!

No need to hide that face! Though it have looked 30
Upon me from the judgement-seat . . . I know
Strangely, that somewhere it has looked on me..
Your coming has my pardon, nay, my thanks.
For there is one who comes not.


As one to die!

Whom forgive,


Strafford. True, all die, and all need Forgiveness: I forgive him from my soul. Hollis. 'Tis a world's wonder: Strafford, you

must die!

Strafford. Sir, if your errand is to set me free This heartless jest mars much. Ha! Tears in truth? We'll end this! See this paper, warm-feel-warm 40 With lying next my heart! Whose hand is there? Whose promise? Read, and loud for God to hear! 'Strafford shall take no hurt '-read it, I say! 'In person, honour, nor estate '-


The King.. Strafford. I could unking him by a breath! You


Where Loudon sat, who came to prophesy


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