FATHER!" at length he murmured low, and wept like childhood then :

Falk not of grief till thou hast seen the tears of warlike men!

He thought on all his hopes, and all his young renown-He flung his falchion from his side, and in the dust sat down.

Then covering with his steel-gloved hands his darkly mournful brow

"No more, there is no more," he said, "to lift the sword for, now;

My king is false-my hope betrayed! My father-O! the worth,

The glory, and the loveliness, are passed away from earth!

"I thought to stand where banners waved, my sire, beside thee, yet!

I would that there our kindred blood on Spain's free soil had met !

Thou wouldst have known my spirit, then ;-for thee my fields were won;

And thou hast perished in thy chains, as though thou hadst no son !"

Then, starting from the ground once more, he seized the monarch's rein,

Amidst the pale and wildered looks of all the courtier train;

And, with a fierce, o'ermastering grasp, the rearing war

horse led,

And sternly set them face to face the king before the dead :

"Came I not forth, upon thy pledge, my father's hand to kiss?

Be still, and gaze thou on, false king! and tell me what is this?

The voice, the glance, the heart I sought-give answer, where are they?

If thou wouldst clear thy perjured soul, send life through this cold clay !

"Into these glassy eyes put light;-be still! keep down thine ire !

Bid these white lips a blessing speak-this earth is not my

sire:

Give me back him for whom I strove, for whom my blood was shed

Thou canst not ?-and a king-his dust be mountains on

thy head."

He loosed the steed-his slack hand fell;-upon the silent.

face

He cast one long, deep, troubled look, then turned from that sad place:

His hope was crushed, his after fate untold in martial strain:

is banner led the spears no more, amidst the hills of Spain.

BERNARDO AND KING ALPHONSO.
J. G. Lockhart.

WITH Some good ten of his chosen men,

Bernardo hath appeared,

Before them all in the palace hall,

The lying king to beard;

With cap in hand and eye on ground,

He came in reverend guise,

But ever and anon he frowned,

And flame broke from his eyes.

"A curse upon thee," cries the king,
"Who com'st unbid to me!

But what from traitor's blood should spring,
Save traitor like to thee?

His sire, lords, had a traitor's heart-
Perchance our champion brave
May think it were a pious part
To share Don Sancho's grave."

"Whoever told this tale,

The king hath rashness to repeat,"
Cries Bernard, "here my gage I fling
Before the LIAR's feet!

No treason was in Sancho's blood-
No stain in mine doth lie:

Below the throne what knight will own

The coward calumny?

The blood that I like water shed,

When Roland did advance,

By secret traitors hired and led,
To make us slaves of France;

The life of king Alphonso

I saved at Roncesval

Your words, Lord King, are recompense
Abundant for it all.

Your horse was down-your hope was flown

I saw the falchion shine

That soon had drunk your royal blood

Had I not ventured mine;

But memory soon of service done

Deserteth the ingrate;

You've thanked the son for life and crown

By the father's bloody fate.

"Ye swore upon your kingly faith

To set Don Sancho free;

But, curse upon your paltering breath!
The light he ne'er did see;

He died in dungeon cold and dim,
By Alphonso's base decree;

And visage blind and stiffened limb,
Were all they gave to me.

The king that swerveth from his word,
Hath stained his purple black;

No Spanish lord will draw his sword
Behind a liar's back;

But noble vengeance shall be mine,

And open hate I'll show

The king hath injured Carpio's line,

And Bernard is his foe !"

"Seize, seize him!" loud the King doth scream; "There are a thousand here!

Let his foul blood this instant stream;

What! caitiffs, do

ye

fear?

Seize, seize the traitor !"-But not one
To move a finger dareth;
Bernardo standeth by the thone,

And calm his sword he bareth.

He drew the falchion from the sheath,
And held it up on high;

And all the hall was still as death;—
Cries Bernard, "Here am I—

And here's the sword that owns no lord,
Excepting Heaven and me;

Fain would I know who dares it point

King, Condé, or Grandee.”

Then to his mouth his horn he drew

It hung below his cloak

His ten true men the signal knew,

And through the ring they broke;

54

With helm on head, and blade in hand,
The knights the circle break,
And back the lordlings 'gan to stand,
And the false king to quake.

"Ha! Bernard," quoth Alphonso,
"What means this warlike guise?
Ye know full well I jested---

Ye know your worth I prize !”
But Bernard turned upon his heel,
And, smiling, passed away :-
Long rued Alphonso and his realm
The jesting of that day !

SHALL WE GIVE UP THE UNION ?— D. S. Dickinson. Extract from a Speech Delivered at New York, May 20, 1861.

SHALL we then surrender to turbulence, and faction, and rebellion, and give up the Union with all its elements of good, all its holy memories, all its hallowed associations, all its blood-bought history?

No! let the eagle change his plume,
The leaf its hue, the flower its bloom-

But do not give up the Union. Preserve it to "flourish in
immortal youth," until it is dissolved amid “the wreck of
matter and the crash of worlds."
statesman stand by it to the last, whether assailed by for-
Let the patriot and
eign or domestic foes, and if he perishes in the conflict, let
him fall like Rienzi, the last of the Tribunes, upon the
same stand where he has preached liberty and equality
to his countrymen.

Preserve it in the name of the Fathers of the Revolution -preserve it for its great clements of good-preserve it in the sacred name of liberty-preserve it for the faithful and devoted lovers of the Constitution in the rebellious States-those who are persecuted for its support, and are dying in its defence. Rebellion can lay down its arms to Government-Government cannot surrender to rebellion.

Give up the Union !" this fair and fertile plain, to batten on that moor!" Divide the Atlantic so that its tides shall beat in sections, that some spurious Neptune may rule in an ocean of his own-draw a line upon the sun's disc. that it may cast its beams upon earth in divisions-let the

moon, like Bottom in the play, show but half its faceseparate the constellation of the Pleiades and sunder the bands of Orion-but retain the Union!

Give up the Union, with its glorious flag-its stars and stripes, full of proud and pleasing and honorable recollections, for the spurious invention with no antecedents but the history of a violated Constitution and of lawless ambition! No! let us stand by the emblem of our fathers:

"Flag of the free heart's hope and home,

By angel hands to valor given,

Thy stars have lit the welkin dome,

And all thy hues were born in Heaven."

Give up the Union? Never! The Union shall endure, and its praises shall be heard, when its friends and its foes, those who support and those who assail, those who bared their bosoms in its defence, and those who aim their daggers at its heart, shall all sleep in the dust together. Its name shall be heard with veneration amid the roar of Pacific's waves, away upon the rivers of the North and East, where liberty is divided from monarchy, and be wafted in gentle breezes upon the Rio Grande. It shall rustle in the harvest and wave in the standing corn, on the extended prairies of the West, and be heard in the bleating folds and lowing herds upon a thousand hills. It shall be with those who delve in mines, and shall hum in the manufactories of New England, and in the cotton-gins of the South. It shall be proclaimed by the stars and stripes in every sea of the earth, as the American Union, one and indivisible; upon the great thoroughfares, wherever steam drives and engines throb and shriek, its greatness and perpetuity shall be hailed with gladness. It shall be lisped in the earliest words, and ring in the merry voices of childhood, and swell to heaven upon the song of maidens. It shall live in the stern resolve of manhood, and rise to the mercy-seat upon woman's gentle, availing prayer. Hoiy men shall invoke its perpetuity at the altars of religion, and it shall be whispered in the last accents of expiring age. Thus shall survive and be perpetuated the American Union, and when it shall be proclaimed that time shall be no more, and the curtain shall fall, and the good shall be gathered to a more perfect union, still may the destiny of our dear land recognize the conception, that

"Perfumes, as of Eden, flowed sweetly along,

And a voice, as of angels, awoke the glad song,
Columbia, Columbia, to glory arise,

The queen of the world, and the child of the skies!"

L