There were three kings into the East,
      Three kings both great and high;
    And they ha’e sworn a solemn oath
      John Barleycorn should die.

    They took a plow and plowed him down,
      Put clods upon his head;
    And they ha’e sworn a solemn oath
      John Barleycorn was dead.

    But the cheerful spring came kindly on,
      And showers began to fall;
    John Barleycorn got up again,
      And sore surprised them all.

    The sultry suns of summer came,
      And he grew thick and strong;
    His head well arm’d wi’ pointed spears,
      That no one should him wrong.

    The sober autumn entered mild,
      And he grew wan and pale;
    His bending joints and drooping head
      Showed he began to fail.

    His colour sickened more and more,
      He faded into age;
    And then his enemies began
      To show their deadly rage.

    They took a weapon long and sharp,
      And cut him by the knee,
    Then tied him fast upon a cart,
      Like a rogue for forgery.

    They laid him down upon his back,
      And cudgelled him full sore;
    They hung him up before the storm,
      And turn’d him o’er and o’er.

    They filled up then a darksome pit
      With water to the brim,
    And heaved in poor John Barleycorn,
      To let him sink or swim.

    They laid him out upon the floor,
      To work him further woe;
    And still as signs of life appeared,
      They tossed him to and fro.

    They wasted o’er a scorching flame
      The marrow of his bones;
    But a miller used him worst of all—­
      He crushed him ’tween two stones.

    And they have taken his very heart’s blood,
      And drunk it round and round;
    And still the more and more they drank,
      Their joy did more abound.

ROBERT BURNS.

 A LIFE ON THE OCEAN WAVE.

“A Life on the Ocean Wave,” by Epes Sargent (1813-80), gives the swing and motion of the water of the great ocean.  Children remember it almost unconsciously after hearing it read several times.

    A life on the ocean wave,
      A home on the rolling deep,
    Where the scattered waters rave,
      And the winds their revels keep! 
    Like an eagle caged, I pine
      On this dull, unchanging shore: 
    Oh! give me the flashing brine,
      The spray and the tempest’s roar!

    Once more on the deck I stand
      Of my own swift-gliding craft: 
    Set sail! farewell to the land! 
      The gale follows fair abaft. 
    We shoot through the sparkling foam
      Like an ocean-bird set free;—­
    Like the ocean-bird, our home
      We’ll find far out on the sea.