Which stretch'd his father on a bloody bier,
And roused the vengeance blood alone could quell:
He rush'd into the field, and, foremost fighting, fell.
5. Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro,
And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress,
And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago
Blush'd at the praise of their own loveliness;
And there were sudden partings, such as press
The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs
Which ne'er might be repeated; who could guess
If ever more should meet those mutual eyes,
Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could
rise!
6. And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed,
The mustering squadron, and the clattering car,
Went pouring forward with impetuous speed,
And swiftly forming in the ranks of war;
And the deep thunder peal on peal afar;
And near, the beat of the alarming drum
Roused up the soldier ere the morning star;
While throng'd the citizens with terror dumb,
Or whispering, with white lips-"The foe! They
come; they come !"
7. And wild and high the "Cameron's gathering" rose!
The war-note of Lochiel, which Albyn's hills
Have heard, and heard, too, have her Saxon foes:-
How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills,
Savage and shrill! But with the breath which fills
Their mountain-pipe, so fill the mountaineers
With the fierce native daring which instills
The stirring memory of a thousand years,
And Evan's, Donald's fame rings in each clansman's
8. And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, Dewy with nature's tear-drops, as they pass,
Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves,
Over the unreturning brave,—alas !
Ere evening to be trodden like the grass
Which now beneath them, but above shall grow
In its next verdure, when this fiery mass
Of living valour, rolling on the foe,
And burning with high hope, shall moulder cold
9. Last noon beheld them full of lusty life,
Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay,
The midnight brought the signal sound of strife,
The morn the marshalling in arms,
-the day
Battle's magnificently stern array!
The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when rent
The earth is cover'd thick with other clay,
Which her own clay shall cover, heap'd and pent,
Rider and horse,—friend, foe,-in one red burial
blent!
[SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE, born 21st October, 1772, was not one of the greatest English poets, simply because of his fatal habit of procrastination. He was one of the most acute thinkers of his day, gifted with a splendid imagination, and great power of expression, but unfortunately for the world he never set himself to earnest work. He died 25th July, 1834.]
ALAS! they had been friends in youth;
But whispering tongues can poison truth;
And constancy lives in realms above;
And life is thorny; and youth is vain;
And to be wroth with one we love,
Doth work like madness in the brain.
And thus it chanced, as I divine,
With Roland and Sir Leoline.
Each spake words of high disdain
And insult to his heart's best brother :
They parted-ne'er to meet again!
But never either found another
To free the hollow heart from paining—
They stood aloof, the scars remaining,
Like cliffs which had been rent asunder;
A dreary sea now flows between ;—
But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder,
Shall wholly do away, I ween,
The marks of that which once hath been!
[The Rev. JAMES MERRICK, born 8th June, 1720, published "Poems," 1763, "The Psalms in Verse," 1765. Died 5th January, 1769.]
OFT has it been my lot to mark
A proud, conceited, talking spark,
With eyes that hardly served at most
To guard their master 'gainst a post,
Yet round the world the blade has been
To see whatever could be seen,
Returning from his finish'd tour,
Grown ten times perter than before;
Whatever word you chance to drop,
The travell❜d fool your mouth will stop,
"Sir, if my judgment you'll allow-
I've seen-and sure I ought to know"
So begs you'd pay a due submission,
And acquiesce in his decision.
Two travellers of such a cast,
As o'er Arabia's wilds they past,
And on their way in friendly chat
Now talk'd of this and then of that,
Discoursed a while, 'mongst other matter,
Of the Chameleon's form and nature.
"A stranger animal,” cries one,
"Sure never lived beneath the sun :
A lizard's body lean and long,
A fish's head, a serpent's tongue,
Its foot with triple claw disjoin'd;
And what a length of tail behind!
How slow its pace! and then its hue-
Whoever saw so fine a blue?"
"Hold there!" the other quick replies, “'Tis green—I saw it with these eyes, As late with open mouth it lay, And warm'd it in the sunny ray; Stretch'd at its ease the beast I view'd, And saw it eat the air for food." “I've seen it, sir, as well as you, And must again affirm it blue. At leisure I the beast survey'd, Extended in the cooling shade."
"'Tis green, 'tis green, sir, I assure ye' "Green!" cries the other in a fury—
'Why, sir-d 'ye think I've lost my eyes?" ""Twere no great loss," the friend replies;
'For, if they always serve you thus,
You'll find 'em but of little use."
So high at last the contest rose,
From words they almost came to blows:
When luckily came by a third-
To him the question they referr'd;
And begg'd he'd tell 'em, if he knew,
Whether the thing was green or blue.
Sirs," cries the umpire, "cease your pother, The creature's neither one nor t' other,
I caught the animal last night,
And view'd it o'er by candlelight :
I mark'd it well-'twas black as jet-
You stare-but, sirs, I've got it yet,
And can produce it."-"Pray, sir, do:
I'll lay my life the thing is blue."
"And I'll be sworn, that when you've seen
The reptile, you'll pronounce him green."
"Well then, at once to end the doubt,"
Replies the man, "I'll turn him out :
And when before your eyes I've set him,
If you don't find him black, I'll eat him."
He said; then full before their sight
Produced the beast, and lo!—'twas white.
SCENE AFTER THE SIEGE OF CORINTH.
ALP wander'd on, along the beach,
Till within the range of a carbine's reach
Of the leaguer'd wall; but they saw him not,
Or how could he 'scape from the hostile shot?
Did traitors lurk in the Christian's hold?
Were their hands grown stiff, or their hearts wax'd cold?
I know not, in sooth; but from yonder wall
There flash'd no fire, and there hissed no ball,
Though he stood beneath the bastion's frown,
That flank'd the sea-ward gate of the town;
Though he heard the sound, and could almost tell
The sullen words of the sentinel,
As his measured step on the stone below
Clank'd, as he paced it to and fro;
And he saw the lean dogs beneath the wall
Hold o'er the dead their carnival,
Gorging and growling o'er carcass and limb;
They were too busy to bark at him!
From a Tartar's skull they had stripped the flesh,
As ye peel the fig when its fruit is fresh ;
And their white tusks crunch'd o'er the whiter skull,
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