With a shriek on the floor the young gipsy-girl fell; Help," cried Susan, "your child to uprear! Your long stolen child!—she remembers you well, And the terrors and joys in her bosom which swell, Are too mighty for nature to bear!" 6. GLENARA.- Campbell. Oh! heard you yon pibroch sound sad in the gale, Glenara came first, with the mourners and shroud; In silence they reached over mountain and moor, "And tell me, I charge you, ye clan of my spouse, "I dreamed of my lady, I dreamed of her shroud," Cried a voice from the kinsmen, all wrathful and loud; "And empty that shroud, and that coffin did seem: Glenara! Glenara! now read me my dream!" Oh! pale grew the cheek of that chieftain, I ween; "I dreamed of my lady, I dreamed of her grief, In dust low the traitor has knelt to the ground, 7. THE SONG OF CONSTANCE.-Scott. Where shall the lover rest, Whom the fates sever, From his true maiden's breast, Where through groves deep and high, Soft shall be his pillow. There, through the summer day, Never again to wake; Never, oh never! Where shall the traitor rest, He the deceiver, Who could win maiden's breast, Ruin and leave her! In the lost battle, Borne down by the flying, His warm blood the wolf shall lap By his grave ever: Blessings shall hallow it,— Never, oh never! 8. THE ORPHAN'S DREAM.-Anonymous. Bereft of his kindred, Mohanoe had strayed To a land among strangers, far, far from his isle; O'erwhelming misfortune in ruins had laid Fach heart-cheering prospect that once could beguile. One son, an affectionate darling, remained, To soothe his afflictions, his perils to share; All cheerless and lone was the orphan-boy left, "Twas night-and the orphan-boy sunk to repose; He thought of those days, when, a stranger to care, Through his dear native bowers he had carelessly roved; The music of home sweetly struck on his ear The voices of those he so dearly had loved. He smiled, as now near to the cottage he drew; A sweet song of welcome they cheerfully sung, His sisters around him endearingly clung, And kissed him with transport again and again. - "I am blest!" cried the dreamer;"yea blest is the hour! But hark! how the thunder now bursts o'er the sky! While the lightning's dread glare meets his terrified eye, 'Oh God!" he exclaimed," is all this but a dream? I thought in my soul thou hadst blessed me a gain.” Though roused from his slumber,-again he reclines; For death's icy fingers his eyelids have closed. He rests 'neath the shade of the cypress and yew: Where his bones unlamented—but peacefully lie. 9. HENRY FIRST, AFTER THE DEATH OF HIS SON.-Hemans. The bark that held the prince went down, He lived-for life may long be borne, Ere sorrow breaks its chain; Still comes not death to those who mourn ; He never smiled again! There stood proud forms before his throne, But which could fill the place of one, Before him passed the young and fair, In pleasure's reckless train; But seas dashed o'er his son's bright hair- He sat where festal bowls went round; He saw the tourney's victor crowned A murmur of the restless deep A voice of winds that would not sleep:- Hearts in that time, closed o'er the trace And strangers took the kinsman's place Graves, which true love had bathed with tears, Fresh hopes were born for other years :- HENRY FIFTH AND THE HERMIT OF DREUX.-Southey. To Henry's tent a hermit passed; The map before him lay; Fresh conquests he was planning there To grace the future day. King Henry lifted up his eyes, With reverence he the hermit saw, "Repent thee, Henry, of the wrongs "I used to see along the stream The white sail sailing down; Famine, disease, and death, and thou |