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Earth's compass round;

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Still rusted in their bony hands;

In plague and famine some! Earth's cities had no sound nor tread,

And ships were drifting with the dead

To shores where all was dumb!

Yet, prophet-like, that lone one stood, With dauntless words and high, That shook the sere leaves from the wood

As if a storm passed by, Saying, "We are twins in death, proud Sun,

Thy face is cold, thy race is run,
'Tis Mercy bids thee go;
For thou ten thousand thousand years
Hast seen the tide of human tears,
That shall no longer flow.

"What though beneath thee man put forth

His pomp, his pride, his skill; And arts that made fire, flood, and earth,

The vassals of the will ? -

Yet mourn I not thy parted sway,
Thou dim discrowned king of day;
For all these trophied arts

And your high priesthood shall make And triumphs that beneath thee

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sprang, Healed not a passion or a pang

Entailed on human hearts.

"Go, let oblivion's curtain fall
Upon the stage of men,
Nor with thy rising beams recall
Life's tragedy again.

Its piteous pageants bring not back,
Nor waken flesh, upon the rack

Of pain anew to writhe; Stretched in disease's shapes abhorred Or mown in battle by the sword,

Like grass beneath the scythe.

"Even I am weary in yon skies
To watch thy fading fire;
Test of all sumless agonies,
Behold not me expire.

66 My lips that speak thy dirge of death

Their rounded gasp and gurgling breath

To see thou shalt not boast.

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,

The eclipse of Nature spreads my And the stormy winds do blow.

pall,

The majesty of darkness shall
Receive my parting ghost!

"This spirit shall return to Him
Who gave its heavenly spark:
Yet think not, Sun, it shall be dim
When thou thyself art dark!
No! it shall live again and shine
In bliss unknown to beams of thine,
By Him recalled to breath,
Who captive led captivity,
Who robbed the grave of Victory,
And took the sting from Death!

"Go, Sun, while Mercy holds me up
On Nature's awful waste
To drink this last and bitter cup

Of grief that man shall taste — Go, tell the night that hides thy face, Thou saw'st the last of Adam's race, On Earth's sepulchral clod, The darkening universe defy To quench his Immortality, Or shake his trust in God!"

YE MARINERS OF ENGLAND.

A NAVAL ODE.

YE Mariners of England!
That guard our native seas;
Whose flag has braved a thousand
years,

The battle and the breeze!
Your glorious standard launch again
To match another foe!
And sweep through the deep,
While the stormy 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!

And ocean was their grave;

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.

HOW DELICIOUS IS THE WIN-
NING.

How delicious is the winning
Of a kiss at love's beginning,
When two mutual hearts are sighing
For the knot there's no untying!

Yet, remember, 'midst your wooing, Love has bliss, but love has ruing; Other smiles may make you fickle, Tears for other charms may trickle.

Love he comes, and Love he tarries,
Just as fate or fancy carries;
Longest stays, when sorest chidden;
Laughs and flies, when pressed and
bidden.

Bind the sea to slumber stilly, Bind its odor to the lily,

For the deck it was their field of fame, Bind the aspen ne'er to quiver,

Then bind Love to last for ever!

Love's a fire that needs renewal

Of fresh beauty for its fuel;

But still as wilder blew the wind, And as the night grew drearer,

Love's wing moults when caged and Adown the glen rode armèd men,

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Their trampling sounded nearer.

"O haste thee, haste!" the lady cries,
"Though tempests round us gather;
I'll meet the raging of the skies,
But not an angry father.".

The boat has left a stormy land,
A stormy sea before her,

When, oh! too strong for human hand,

The tempest gathered o'er her.

And still they rowed amidst the roar
Of waters fast prevailing;
Lord Ullin reached that fatal shore;
His wrath was changed to wailing.

For sore dismayed, through storm and shade,

His child he did discover; One lovely hand she stretched for aid, And one was round her lover.

"Come back! come back!" he cried in grief,

"Across this stormy water: And I'll forgive your Highland chief, My daughter!-O my daughter!"

'Twas vain: the loud waves lashed the shore,

Return or aid preventing:The waters wild went o'er his child,

And he was left lamenting.

FIELD FLOWERS.

YE field flowers! the gardens eclipse you, 'tis true,

Yet, wildings of Nature, I dote upon you,

For ye waft me to summers of old, When the earth teemed around me with fairy delight,

And when daisies and buttercups gladdened my sight,

Like treasures of silver and gold.

I love you for lulling me back into dreams

Of the blue Highland mountains and echoing streams,

And of birchen glades breathing their balm,

While the deer was seen glancing in sunshine remote,

And the deep mellow crush of the wood-pigeon's note

But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.

By torch and trumpet fast arrayed, Each horseman drew his battle-blade, And furious every charger neighed, To join the dreadful revelry.

Made music that sweetened the Then shook the hills with thunder

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