That's hallowed ground

where,

mourned, and missed, The lips repose our love has kissed :But where's their memory's mansion? Is't

Yon churchyard's bowers! No! in ourselves their souls exist, A part of ours.

A kiss can consecrate the ground Where mated hearts are mutual

bound: [wound, The spot where love's first links were That ne'er are riven,

Is hallowed down to earth's profound, And up to Heaven!

For time makes all but true love old; The burning thoughts that then were told

Run molten still in memory's mould; And will not cool,

Until the heart itself be cold

In Lethe's pool.

Is't death to fall for Freedom's right?
He's dead alone that lacks her light!
And murder sullies in Heaven's sight
The sword he draws:-

What can alone ennoble fight? —
A noble cause!

Give that! and welcome War to brace Her drums! and rend Heaven's reeking space!

The colors planted face to face,
The charging cheer,
Though Death's pale horse lead on
the chase,

Earth's compass round;

go

The vassals of the will? -Yet mourn I not thy parted sway, Thou dim discrowned king of day; For all these trophied arts

"My lips that speak thy dirge of death

Their rounded gasp and gurgling breath

To see thou shalt not boast.

pall,

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,

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,

Their trampling sounded nearer.

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.

riven,

Then rushed the steed to battle driven,

And louder than the bolts of heaven Far flashed the red artillery.

But redder yet that light shall glow On Linden's hills of stained snow, And bloodier yet the torrent flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly.

'Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds rolling dun, Where furious Frank and fiery Hun,

Shout in their sulphurous canopy. The combat deepens. On! ye brave, Who rush to glory, or the grave! Wave, Munich! all thy banners wave,

And charge with all thy chivalry!

Few, few shall part where many meet The snow shall be their windingsheet!

And every turf beneath their feet
Shall be a soldier's sepulchre.