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So little to be lov'd and thou so much,
Thou, as a gallant bark from Albion's coast
THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE.
Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot
O’er the grave where our Hero was buried
The sods with our bayonets turning;
And the fantern dimly burning.
With his martial cloak around him!
And we spoke not a word of sorrow;
And we bitterly thought of the morrow-
And smoothed down his lonely pillow How the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his.
And we far away on the billow! . [head, “Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone,
And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him;
In the grave where a Briton has laid him.”
When the clock tolled the hour for retiring, And we heard the distant and random gun,
That the fue was suddenly firingSlowly and sadly we laid him down,
From the field of his fame fresh and gory! We carved not a line, we raised not a stone,
But we left him-alone with his glory!
ADDRESS TO THE RAINBOW.
But words of the Most High,
Was woven in the sky.,
When o'er the green undelug'd earth
Heaven's covenant thou didst shine,
To watch thy sacred sign!
O’er mountains yet untrod,
To bless the bow of God.
The first-made anthem rang
And the first poet sang.
Unraptured greet thy beam:
Be still the poet's theme!
The lark thy welcome sings,
The snowy mushroom springs.
O'er mountain, tower, and town,
A thousand fathoms down!
As young thy beauties seem,
Heaven still rebuilds thy span,
That first spoke peace to man.
THE NIGHT BEFORE THE BATTLE OF
Her beauty and her Chivalry; and bright
And all went merry as a marriage bell;
knell! .. . Did ye not hear it?-No; 'twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street; On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feetBut hark!—that heavy sound breaks in once more, As if the clouds its echo would repeat;
And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before!
Within a window'd niche of that high hall
And rous'd the vengeance blood alone could quell: He rush'd into the field, and, foremost fighting, fell!
Ah-then and there was hurrying to and fro,
If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, Since upon nights so sweet such awful morn could
rise? And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war; And the deep thunder peal on peal afar;
And near, the beat of the alarming drum · Rous'd up the soldier ere the morning star;
While throng'd the citizens with terror dumb, Or whispering, with white lips" the foe! they come!
they come!” And wild and high the “Cameron's gathering”
rose! The war-note of Lochiel, which Albyn's hills Have heard and heard, too, have her Saxon foes: How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills, Savage and shrill! But with the breath which fills Their mountain-pipe; so fill the mountaineers With their fierce native daring, which instils
The stirring memory of a thousand years; And Evan's, Donald's fame rings in each clansman's
ears! And Ardennes waves above them her green•leaves, Dewy with nature's tear-drops, as they pass, Grieving—if aught inanimate e'er grieves—. Over the unreturning brave,--alas! Ere evening to be trodden like the grass, Which now beneath them, but above shall grow In its next verdure; when this fiery mass
of living valour, rolling on the foe, And burning with high hope, shall moulder cold and
low! Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay, The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife, The morn the marshalling in arms--the day Battle's magnificently-stern array! The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when rent The earth is cover'd thick with other clay,
Which her own clay shall cover-heap'd and pent, Rider and horse,-friend, foe,—in one red burial
ROLLA TO THE PERUVIANS.
SHERIDAN. My brave associates!-partners of my toil, my feelings, and my fame! Can Rolla's words add via