Red:n har erhållit benaget medgisfvande att osstentliggöra följande vackra poem, sörsattadt if en här bosatt engelsk dam, med anledning if den fest, som i dag firas för Sebastopols fall. Poemet lyder sålunda: Sebastopol. seeest thou the writing ov the wall? Hearsst thou the stern decree of fate? The Stronghold ef the Czars shall sall, — The Gaul — the Britones at their gate! And it is fallen! — Amid seas of blood, Amid deeds of valour neler surpassd! Crushed is the serpentis hatsul brood: Sebastopol is ours at last! — Behold — the first stern footprint set Upon the wily monsterss neck! And strange the banners that have met; To wave in triumph oer the wreck. England and France have cast aside The hatred of a thowsand yeers; — That union neer shall be destroyd, For it is seeled with blood and tears! They stand triumphant, hand in band, With Freedomes glorious flag unfurld. — While in the van such champions stand Who dares to tremple on the world? And then Sardinias banner gay Gleams like a rainbow of bright hope — The first faint streak of dawning day That oer earths sairest land sball ope! To atone with blood one satal blot On Europes brow they meet, they fight; And thousands fell: yet morrn them not; They died to save the world from night! And they have conqerd! Earth, break forth In shouts of jay that thundering roll: Crushed is the Giant of the horth Beneath tby walls, Sebastopol! And there tbe daughters of the Isles, Go forth upon, their holy rounds, With tender care, with mouryful smiles, Those heroines biud their heroes wounds. Oh, may the nations all arise To hall such deeds with beart and soul, And thus, at least, to share the prize With those who took Sebastopol!