my winds do blow;
    While the battle rages loud and long,
      And the stormy winds do blow.

    The spirits of your fathers
      Shall start from every wave!
    For the deck it was their field of fame,
      And ocean was their grave:
    Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell
      Your manly hearts shall glow,
    As ye sweep through the deep
      While the stormy winds do blow;
    While the battle rages loud and long,
      And the stormy winds do blow.

    Britannia needs no bulwarks,
      No towers along the steep;
    Her march is o’er the mountain-waves,
      Her home is on the deep.
    With thunders from her native oak,
      She quells the floods below,
    As they roar on the shore
      When the stormy winds do blow;
    When the battle rages loud and long,
      And the stormy winds do blow.

    The meteor flag of England
      Shall yet terrific burn;
    Till danger’s troubled night depart,
      And the star of peace return.
    Then, then, ye ocean warriors!
      Our song and feast shall flow
    To the fame of your name,
      When the storm has ceased to blow;
    When the fiery fight is heard no more,
      And the storm has ceased to blow!
         --THOMAS CAMPBELL.

       *       *       *       *       *

    Do what you ought, come what may.




        THE APPLES OF IDUN


Once upon a time Odin, Loke, and Hœner started on a journey. They had
often travelled together before on all sorts of errands, for they had a
great many things to look after, and more than once they had fallen into
trouble through the prying, meddlesome, malicious spirit of Loke, who
was never so happy as when he was doing wrong. When the gods went on a
journey, they travelled fast and hard, for they were strong, active,
spirits who loved nothing so much as hard work, hard blows, storm,
peril, and struggle. There were no roads through the country over which
they made their way, only high mountains to be climbed by rocky paths,
deep valleys into which the sun hardly looked during half the year, and
swift