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And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!

And there lay the steed, with his nostril all wide,
But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride:
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.

And there lay the rider distorted and pale,

With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail;
The tents were all silent, the banners alone,
The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.

And the widows of Asshur 2 are loud in their wail,
And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal; 3
And the might of the Gentile,4 unsmote by the sword,
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!

1 Sennacherib was the most powerful

of Assyrian monarchs; he invaded Palestine in the time of Hezekiah for the purpose of preventing the union of the Hebrew and Egyptian armies. After the fearful overthrow narrated in the poem, he was assassinated by two of his sons (2 Chron. xxxii. 21).

2 Asshur was the second son of Shem,

Byron.

and gave his name to the vast territory of Assyria.

3 Baal, Bel, or Belus was, in one form or other, the supreme god of the Phoenicians, Carthaginians, Syrians, and many other nations.

4 Gentile. This term was applied to all who did not belong to the Jewish nation.

THE SOLDIER'S DREAM.

Our bugles sang truce 1-for the night-cloud had lowered,2
And the sentinel stars set their watch in the sky;
And thousands had sunk on the ground overpowered-
The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die.

When reposing that night on my pallet 3 of straw,
By the wolf-scaring fagot that guarded the slain;
At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw,

And thrice ere the morning I dreamed it again.

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Methought, from the battle-field's dreadful array,
Far, far I had roamed on a desolate track;
'Twas autumn-and sunshine arose on the way

To the home of my fathers, that welcomed me back.

I flew to the pleasant field, traversed so oft

In life's morning march,5 when my bosom was young; I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft,

And knew the sweet strain that the corn-reapers sung.

Then pledged we the wine-cup, and fondly I swore, From my home and my weeping friends never to part; My little ones kissed me a thousand times o'er,

And my wife sobbed aloud in her fullness of heart:

'Stay, stay with us-rest, thou art weary and worn ;'
And fain was their war-broken soldier to stay-
But sorrow returned with the dawning of morn,
And the voice in my dreaming ears melted away.

1 Bugles sang truce, gave the signal to cease fighting for a time.

2 The night-cloud had lowered, darkness had set in.

3 Pallet, couch or bed.

Campbell.

4 Wolf-scaring fagot, a fire lighted to frighten away wolves.

5 Life's morning march, boyhood.

THE BRIDGE.

I stood on the bridge at midnight,
As the clocks were striking the hour,
And the moon rose o'er the city,
Behind the dark church-tower.

I saw her bright reflection

In the waters under me,
Like a golden goblet falling
And sinking into the sea.

And far in the hazy distance
Of that lovely night in June,
The blaze of the flaming furnace
Gleamed redder than the moon.

Among the long black rafters

The wavering shadows lay,

And the current that came from the ocean Seemed to lift and bear them away;

As sweeping and eddying through them, Rose the belated tide,

And streaming into the moonlight,

The sea-weed floated wide.

And like those waters rushing
Among the wooden piers,
A flood of thoughts came o'er me
That filled my eyes with tears.

How often, oh, how often,

In the days that had gone by,
I had stood on that bridge at midnight,
And gazed on that wave and sky!

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62

LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER.

Yet whenever I cross the river

On its bridge with wooden piers,
Like the odour of brine from the ocean
Comes the thought of other years.

And I think how many thousands
Of care-encumbered men,

Each bearing his burden of sorrow,
Have crossed the bridge since then!

I see the long procession

Still passing to and fro,

The young heart hot and restless,
And the old subdued and slow.

And for ever and for ever,

As long as the river flows,

As long as the heart has passions,
As long as life has woes;

The moon and its broken reflection
And its shadows shall appear,

As the symbol of love in heaven,
And its wavering image here.

LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER.

A chieftain to the Highlands bound,
Cries: Boatman, do not tarry!
And I'll give thee a silver pound,
To row us o'er the ferry.'

'Now, who be ye would cross Lochgyle,
This dark and stormy water?'

'Oh, I'm the chief of Ulva's Isle,1

And this, Lord Ullin's daughter.

Longfellow.

'And fast before her father's men

Three days we've fled together; For should he find us in the glen,

My blood would stain the heather.

"His horsemen hard behind us ride; Should they our steps discover, Then who will cheer my bonny bride, When they have slain her lover?'

Out spoke the hardy Highland wight: 2
'I'll go, my chief-I'm ready :
It is not for your silver bright,
But for your winsome lady :

'And, by my word! the bonny bird In danger shall not tarry;

So, though the waves are raging white, I'll row you o'er the ferry.'

By this the storm grew loud apace,

The water-wraith 3 was shrieking; And in the scowl of heaven each face Grew dark as they were speaking.

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The boat has left a stormy land,

A stormy sea before her

When, oh! too strong for human hand, The tempest gathered o'er her.

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