"'Toll for the brave! The brave that are no more! All sunk beneath the wave, Fast by their native shore! "'Eight hundred of the brave, Whose courage well was tried, Had made the vessel heel, And laid her on her side. "'A land breeze shook the shrouds, And she was overset; Down went the Royal George, With all her crew complete. "'Toll for the brave! Brave Kempenfeldt is gone; His last sea-fight is fought: His work of glory done. "'It was not in the battle; No tempest gave the shock; She sprang no fatal leak; She ran upon no rock. "'His sword was in its sheath His fingers held the pen, When Kempenfeldt went down, With twice four hundred men! "'Weigh the vessel up, Once dreaded by our foes! And mingle with our cup The tear that England owes. "'Her timbers yet are sound, And she may float again, Full charged with England's thunder, And plough the distant main. "'But Kempenfeldt is gone, His victories are o'er; And he and his eight hundred Shall plough the main no more!" MRS. WILTON. "I fear we are prolonging this evening's discussion beyond the customary bounds; but I should not be satisfied to quit the Channel without a peep at rocky Eddystone." GEORGE. "Mamma is very anxious to see the Lighthouse, and so am I. It appears to me a most wonderful building, standing as it does, surrounded by foaming waves, and in constant danger from winds and storms. Who knows anything about it?"