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THE PILGRIM FATHERS.

Not as the flying come,

In silence and in fear;
They shook the depths of the desert's gloom

With their hymns of lofty cheer.'

Amidst the storm they sang :

This the stars heard, and the sea; And the sounding aisles 2 of the dim woods rang

To the anthem of the free. The ocean-eagle soared,

From his nest by the white wave's foam, And the rocking pines of the forest roared :

Such was their welcome home.

There were men with hoary hair

Amidst that pilgrim band :
Why had they come to wither there,

Away from their childhood's land ?
There was woman's fearless eye,

Lit by her deep love's truth;
There was manhood’s brow serenely high,

And the fiery heart of youth.

What sought they thus afar ?

Bright jewels of the mine?
The wealth of seas ? the spoils of war?

No—'twas a faith's pure shrine.
Yes, call that holy ground,

Which first their brave feet trod ! They have left unstained what there they foundFREEDOM TO WORSHIP GOD!

Mrs Hemans.

1 The Pilgrim Fathers. During the per-1.. sailed in the Mayflower, and after

secution of the Puritans by James great privations by sea and land, I., several sought refuge in Hol during which their faith in God land, but they felt as strangers was never shaken, they succeeded and exiles, and longed for a land in establishing themselves in the of their own. Many of them em New World. barked for America in order to 2 Aisles, avenues. plant there a new colony. They

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‘Moor, moor the barge, ye gallant crew!

And, gentle ladye, deign to stay ! Rest thee in Castle Ravensheugh,

Nor tempt the stormy firth 1 to-day. “The blackening wave is edged with white ;

To inch 2 and rock the sea-mews fly; The fishers have heard the Water Sprite, 3 Whose screams forebode that wreck is nigh.

Last night the gifted seer did view

A wet shroud swathed round ladye gay ; Then stay thee, Fair, in Ravensheugh:

Why cross the gloomy firth to-day!'

ROSABELLE.

"'Tis not because Lord Lindesay's heir

To-night at Roslin leads the ball ; But that my lady-mother there

Sits lonely in her castle hall

""Tis not because the ring they ride

And Lindesay at the ring rides well; But that my sire the wine will chide,

If 'tis not filled by Rosabelle.'

O'er Roslin all that dreary night

A wondrous blaze was seen to gleam ;4 'Twas broader than the watch-fire light,

And redder than the bright moonbeam.

It glared on Roslin's castled rock,

It ruddied all the copse-wood glen; 'Twas seen from Dryden's groves of oak,

And seen from caverned Hawthornden.

Seemed all on fire that chapel proud,

Where Roslin's chiefs uncoffined lie ; Each baron, for a sable shroud,

Sheathed in his iron panoply.5

Seemed all on fire within, around,

Deep sacristy and altar's pale ; Shone every pillar foliage bound,

And glimmered all the dead men's mail.

Blazed battlement and pinnet high,

Blazed every rose-carved buttress fairSo still they blaze when fate is nigh

The lordly line of high St Clair.?

There are twenty of Roslin's barons bold

Lie buried within that proud chapelle; Each one the holy vault doth hold

But the sea holds lovely Rosabelle !

And each St Clair was buried there,

With candle, with book, and with knell ;
But the sea-caves rung, and the wild winds sung,
The dirge of lovely Rosabelle.

Scott.

1 Stormy firth, Firth of Forth.
2 Inch, an island, as in Inchkeith, Inch-

colm.
3 Water Sprite, water demon ; kelpie.
4 O'er Roslin all that dreary night

A wondrous blaze was seen to gleam. This fine dirge is founded on the tradition that Roslin Chapel is supernaturally illuminated when

any member of the Rosslyn family

dies. Iron panoply, coat of mail Foliage bound. The pillars of Roslin

Chapel are admired for their ela

borate floral sculpture. 7 The lordly line of high St Clair. The

Sinclair family can trace its ancestral line back to the progenitors of William the Conqueror,

SHE IS FAR FROM THE LAND.1
She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps,

And lovers are round her sighing;
But coldly she turns from their gaze, and weeps,

For her heart in his grave is lying.

She sings the wild songs of her dear native plains,

Every note which he loved awaking;
Ah! little they think, who delight in her strains,

How the heart of the minstrel is breaking.

He had lived for his love, for his country he died,

They were all that to life had entwined him ;
Nor soon shall the tears of his country be dried,

Nor long will his love stay behind him.

Oh, make her a grave where the sunbeams rest

When they promise a glorious morrow;
They'll shine o'er her sleep, like a smile from the west,
From her own loved island of sorrow.

Moore.

1 She is far, &c. See 'The Broken Heart' in Washington Irving's Sketch-Book.

SOLDIER, WAKE.

FLATTERY AND FRIENDSHIP.
Every one that flatters thee
Is no friend in misery;
Words are easy, like the wind;
Faithful friends 'tis hard to find ;
Every man will be thy friend,
While thou hast wherewith to spend.
But if store of crowns be scant,
No man will supply thy want.
If that one be prodigal,
Bountiful they will him call;
If he be addict to vice,
Quickly him they will entice;
But if fortune once do frown,
Then farewell his great renown;
They that fawned on him before,
Use his company no more.
He that is thy friend indeed,
He will keep thee in thy need.
If thou sorrow, he will weep;
If thou wake, he cannot sleep.
Thus of every grief in heart,
He with thee doth bear a part.
These are certain signs to know
Faithful friend from flattering foe.

Shakspeare.

SOLDIER, WAKE.
Soldier, wake !--the day is peeping,
Honour ne'er was won in sleeping,
Never when the sunbeams still
Lay unreflected on the hill :
'Tis when they are glinted back
From axe and armour, spear and jack,

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