OGILVIE. The wild birds now are nesting, On his lone turrets high !— And there the stork is resting From her long flight, in the sky! Faded the ravished bowers, Where he was wont to roam; In ruins heaped the towers, That once he called his home. All sadly lone and desolate ! No banner's pomp is seen! Where monarchs sat enthroned in state, With wakening recollection To mourn his dreamless sleep! ! 'Tis past we gather flowers, Sweet flowers of earliest bloom Bright emblems of departed hours, To hang around his tomb! 141 A DIRGE, SUNG IN MEMORY OF LANE, O'BRIEN, AND SMITH, OF THE CLASS OF 1838. BY ROBERT WYMAN. * COMRADES, we meet to mourn the dead! We meet-but ah! not all; Upon the funeral pall. Far, far away from this dear haunt, Well hath the classic poet sung, t Of poverty and pride. Horace Lib. 1. Car. 4. Palida Mors, etc. A DIRGE.. Though dust to dust may be consigned- Their cherished names shall be enshrined But while our hearts with anguish bleed, Oh! may we all this warning heed, e-when down death's dreary coast And we Our shattered barks are driven; By sea and storm no longer tossedMay we repose in heaven. 143 ST. JOHN IN EXILE. BY ANDREW DUNNING. DEATH was decreed, or banishment, to all of christian faith, And he stood before the Roman power, for exile, or for death. The weakness of declining years was all forgotten now; He stood erect with fearless eye, and an unquailing brow. Though storms might break in darkness round, there was an arm to save, Through faith he trode the lifting seas, for Christ was on the wave. Amid the war of elements, he saw the rainbow dyes Arching in bows of promise sure, across the frowning skies. ST. JOHN IN EXILE. 145 The clouds hung heavy o'er his head, but sunlight in his soul Darted athwart the fearful gloom, and richly tinged the whole. He gazed upon the soldier guard, with spear and waving crest; And the thronging mass of bloody men that round him thickly prest; Calm and undaunted was his gaze, and through the troubled air, Went up from his confiding heart, the spirit-whispered prayer. His heart was fixed, his faith was firm, for he leaned upon the breast Of his beloved Savior still, and felt the promised rest. The stern decree of banishment to Patmos' lonely shore, Was circled with celestial light, and tints of glory bore. "Twas joy to leave a treacherous world, 'twas happi ness to meet Far from the faithlessness of man, a solitude so sweet; 'Twas joy to share the angry scorn by persecutors poured, |