Rush on his thought; he sweeps before the wind,
Treads the lov'd shore he sigh'd to leave behind;
Meets at each step a friend's familiar face,
And flies at last to Helen's long embrace;
Wipes from her cheek the rapture-speaking tear,
And clasps, with many a sigh, his children dear!
While, long neglected, but at length caress'd,
His faithful dog salutes the smiling guest,
Points to the master's eyes (where'er they roam)
His wistful face, and whines a welcome home.
Friend of the brave! in peril's darkest hour
Intrepid Virtue looks to thee for power;
To thee the heart its trembling homage yields,
On stormy floods, and carnage-cover'd fields,
When front to front the banner'd hosts combine,
Halt ere they close, and form the dreadful line.
When all is still on Death's devoted soil,
The march-worn soldier mingles for the toil:
As rings his glittering tube, he lifts on high
The dauntless brow, and spirit-speaking eye,
Hails in his heart the triumph yet to come,
And hears thy stormy music in the drum!
AMERICA TO GREAT BRITAIN.-W. ALLSTON.
ALL hail! thou noble land,
Our father's native soil!
O stretch thy mighty hand,
Gigantic grown by toil,
O'er the vast Atlantic waves to our shore:
For thou, with magic might,
Canst reach to where the light
Of Phoebus travels bright
The world o'er.
The Genius of our clime,
From his pine-embattled steep, Shall hail the great sublime;
While the Tritons of the deep
With their conchs the kindred league shall proclaim.
Then let the world combine
O'er the main our naval line,
Like the milky way, shall shine
Bright in fame!
Though ages long have pass'd
Since our fathers left their home,
Their pilot in the blast,
O'er untravell'd seas to roam,—
Yet lives the blood of England in our veins!
And shall we not proclaim
That blood of honest fame,
Which no tyranny can tame
By its chains?
While the language, free and bold,
Which the bard of Avon sung,
In which our Milton told
How the vault of heaven rung, When Satan blasted fell with his host; While this, with reverence meet, Ten thousand echoes greet,
From rock to rock repeat
Round our coast;
While the manners, while the arts,
That mould a nation's soul,
Still cling around our hearts,
Between let Ocean roll,
Our joint communion breaking with the Sun:
Yet still, from either beach,
The voice of blood shall reach,
More audible than speech,
"We are One!"
LADY HERON'S SONG.-SCOTT.
OH! young Lochinvar is come out of the west,
Thro' all the wide border his steel was the best,
And save his good broadsword, he weapons had
He rode all unarm'd, and he rode all alone!
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,
There never was knight like the young Lochinvar!
He stay'd not for brake, and he stopp'd not for stone,
He swam the Eske river where ford there was none;—
But ere he alighted at Netherby gate
The bride had consented,-the gallant came late :
For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war,
Was to wed the fair Ellen of young Lochinvar !
So, boldly he entered the Netherby Hall,
Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all:Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword, (For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word!) "Oh! come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar ?"
"I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you
denied:
Love swells like the Solway,-but ebbs like its tide:
And now I am come, with this lost love of mine,
To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine!
There are maidens in Scotland, more lovely by far,-
That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar !"
The bride kiss'd the goblet,—the knight took it up,-
He quaff'd off the wine, and he threw down the cup.
She look'd down to blush,-and she look'd up to sigh-
With a smile on her lip, and a tear in her eye!
He took her soft hand; ere her mother could bar,
"Now tread we a measure!” said young Lochinvar.
So stately his form, and so lovely his face,
That never a hall such a galliard did grace;
While her mother did fret, and her father did fume,
And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume:
And the bride-maidens whisper'd, ""Twere better by far,
To have match'd our fair cousin with young Lochinvar.”
One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear
When they reach'd the hall-door, and the charger stood near; So light to the croup the fair lady he swung,
So light to the saddle before her he sprung!
"She is won! we are gone,-over bank, bush and scaur,— They'll have swift steeds that follow," quoth young Lochinvar.
There was mounting 'mong Græmes of the Netherby clan,
Forsters, Fenwicks and Musgraves, they rode and they ran;
There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee,
But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see.-
So daring in love, and so dauntless in war,
Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar!
ST. PETER'S AT ROME-THE VATICAN.-BYRON.
BUT lo! the dome-the vast and wondrous dome,
To which Diana's marvel was a cell-
Christ's mighty shrine above his martyr's tomb!
I have beheld the Ephesian's miracle-
Its columns strew the wilderness, and dwell
The hyæna and the jackal in their shade ;
I have beheld Sophia's bright roofs swell
Their glittering mass i' the sun, and have survey'd Its sanctuary the while the usurping Moslem pray'd;
But thou, of temples old, or altars
Standest alone,—with nothing like to thee—
Worthiest of God, the holy and the true.
Since Zion's desolation, when that He
Forsook his former city, what could be
Of earthly structures, in his honor piled,
Of a sublimer aspect? Majesty,
Power, Glory, Strength, and Beauty, all are aisled
In this eternal ark of worship undefiled.
Enter: its grandeur overwhelms thee not;
And why? It is not lessen'd; but thy mind,
Expanded by the genius of the spot,
Has grown colossal, and can only find
A fit abode, wherein appear enshrined
Thy hopes of immortality; and thou
Shalt one day, if found worthy, so defined
See thy God face to face, as thou dost now
His Holy of Holies, nor be blasted by his brow.
Thou movest--but increasing with the advance,
Like climbing some great Alp, which still doth rise,—
Deceived by its gigantic elegance;
Vastness which grows, but grows to harmonize—
All musical in its immensities;
Rich marbles-richer paintings-shrines where flame
The lamps of Gold--and haughty dome which vies
In air with Earth's chief structures, though their frame
Sits on the firm-set ground-and this the clouds must claim.
Thou seest not all; but piecemeal thou must break,
To separate contemplation, the great whole;
And as the Ocean many bays will make,
That ask the eye-so here condense thy soul
To more immediate objects, and control
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