EXAMPLES IN FORCE.

'THE BRIGADE" AT FONTENOY.—MAY 11, 1745.

Moderate force.

Moderate.

1. By our camp-fires rose a murmur,
At the dawning of the day,
And the tread of many footsteps
Spoke the advent of the fray;
And as we took our places,

Loud force.

Moderate.

Loud force.

Full force.

Few and stern were our words,
While some were tightening horse-girths,
And some were girding swords.

2. The trumpet-blast has sounded
Our footmen to array-
The willing steed has bounded
Impatient for the fray-

The green flag is unfolded,

While rose the cry of joy

"Heaven speed dear Ireland's banner
To-day at Fontenoy !"

3. We looked upon that banner,

And the memory arose

Of our homes and perished kindred,
Where the Lee or Shannon flows;
We looked upon that banner,

And we swore to God on high
To smite to-day the Saxon's might-

To conquer or to die.

4. Loud swells the charging trumpet

"Tis a voice from our own land

God of battles-God of vengeance,
Guide to-day the patriot's brand;
There are stains to wash away-

There are memories to destroy,
In the best blood of the Briton,
To-day, at Fontenoy.

5. Plunge deep the fiery rowels
In a thousand reeking flanks-
Down, chivalry of Ireland,

Down on the British ranks.

Now shall their serried columns

Beneath our sabres reel

Through their ranks, then, with the war-horse-s
Through their bosoms with the steel.

6. With one shout for good King Louis,
And the fair land of the vine,
Like the wrathful Alpine tempest,
We swept upon their line.

Gentle force.

Then rang along the battle-field

Triumphant our hurrah,

And we smote them down, still cheering-
"Erin, slanthagal go bragh !"

7. As prized as is the blessing
From an aged father's lip-

As welcome as the haven
To the tempest-driven ship-
As dear as to the lover

The smile of gentle maid

Is this day of long-sought vengeance
To the swords of the Brigade.

1 Ireland, the bright toast forever!

Loud force.

8. See their shattered forces flying,
A broken, routed line-

See, England, what brave laurels

For your brow to-day we twine.

Oh, thrice blessed the hour that witnessed
The Briton turn to flee

From the chivalry of Erin

And France's "fleur de lis!"

Gentle force.

9. As we lay beside our camp-fires,
When the sun had passed away,
And thought upon our brethren
Who had perished in the fray,

Moderate increase to the close.

We prayed to Goa to grant us,
And then we'd die with joy,
One day upon our own dear land
Like this of Fontenoy.

Moderate force.

-Bartholomew Dowling.

THE DYING SOLDIER.

The crimson tide was ebbing, and the pulse grew weak und

faint,

But the lips of that brave soldier scorned e'en now to make

complaint;

"Fall in ranks !" a voice called to him,-calm and low was

his reply:

"Yes, if I can, I'll do it-I will do it, though I die !"

Gentle force.

And he murmured, when the life-light had died out to just a spark,

"It is growing very dark, mother-growing very dark."

There were tears in manly eyes then, and manly heads were

bowed,

Though the balls flew thick around them, and the cannons thundered loud;

They gathered round the spot where the dying soldier lay,
To catch the broken accents he was struggling then to say;
And a change came o'er the features where death had set
his mark,

"It is growing very dark, mother-very, very dark."

Far away his mind had wandered to Ohio's hills and vales, Where the loved ones watched and waited with that love that

never fails;

He was with them as in childhood, seated in the cottage door, Where he watched the evening shadows slowly creeping on

the floor:

Bend down closely, comrades, closely-he is speaking now, and hark!

"It is growing very dark, mother—very, very dark.”

Very quick time.

EXAMPLES IN TIME.

1. Quick-man the boat! John, be quick! Get some water! Throw the powder overboard! "It cannot be reached." Jump into the boat, then! Shove off! There goes the powder ! Thank Heaven, we are safe!

Moderate and quick.

2. At length, o'er Columbus, slow consciousness breaks,
"LAND! LAND!" cry the sailors; "LAND! LAND !”—he
awakes-

He runs,-yes! behold it! it blesseth his sight!
The land! oh! dear spectacle! transport! delight!

Very slow time.

3. The stars shall fade away, the sun' himself | Grow dim with age, || and Nature | sink' in years; But thou shalt flourish' in immortal youth ||

Unhurt amidst the war of elements, ||

The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds!

Creation sleeps! 'tis as the general pulse of life |
Stood still and Nature made a pause, ||

An awful pause, || || prophetic of her end!-
Quick time.

4. I come', I come! Ye have called me long',
I come o'er the mountains with light and song!
Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth,
By the winds which tell of the violet's birth,
By the primrose stars in the shadowy grass
By the green leaves opening as I pass.

Moderate time.-Full force.

5. Upward,-onward! Fellow workmen !
Ours the battle-field of life!

Ne'er a foot to foeman yielding,
Pressing closer midst the strife!
Forward! in the strength of Manhood,-
Forward in the fire of Youth,-
Aim at something; ne'er surrender,-
Arm thee in the mail of Truth!

Miller was a rough stone-mason;
Shakespeare, Goldsmith, Keats, and Hood,
Franklin, Jerrold, Burns, and Gifford,

Had to toil as we, for food.
Yes: these men with minds majestic,
Sprang from ranks the rich call poor,

Cast a halo round brown labor,-
Had to wrestle, fight, endure.

Forward, then! bright eyes are beaming;
Fight, nor lose the conqueror's crown!
Stretch thy right hand, seize thy birthright,
Take it, wear it, 'tis thine own!
Slay the giants which beset thee,
Rise to manhood, glory, fame;
Take thy pen, and in the volume

Of the gifted write thy name!