THERE was heard the sound of a coming foe,
There was sent through Britain a bended bow;
And a voice was poured on the free winds far,
As the land rose up at the sound of war:
"Heard ye not the battle horn?
Reaper! leave thy golden corn!
Leave it for the birds of heaven;
Swords must flash, and spears be riven:
Leave it for the winds to shed,
Arm! ere Britain's turf grow red!
And the reaper armed, like a freeman's son;
And the bended bow and the voice passed on.
"Hunter! leave the mountain chase!
Take the falchion from its place!
Let the wolf go free to-day;
Leave him for a nobler prey!
Let the deer ungalled sweep by,
Arm thee! Britain's foes are nigh!"
And the hunter armed, ere the chase was done.
And the bended bow and the voice passed on.
"Chieftain! quit the joyous feast!
Stay not till the song hath ceased:
Though the mead be foaming bright,
Though the fire gives ruddy light,
Leave the hearth and leave the hall,
Arm thee! Britain's foes must fall!"
And the chieftain armed, and the horn was blown;
And the bended bow and the voice passed on.
"Prince! thy father's deeds are told
In the bower and in the hold!
Where the goatherd's lay is sung,
Where the minstrel's harp is strung!
Foes are on thy native sea,
Give our bards a tale of thee!"
And the prince came armed, like a leader's son
And the bended bow and the voice passed on.
"Mother! stay thou not thy boy!
He must learn the battle's joy.
Sister! bring the sword and spear,
Give thy brother words of cheer!
Maiden bid thy lover part;
Britain calls the strong in heart!"
And the bended bow and the voice passed on;
And the bards made song of a battle won.
Lochinvar is come out of the west,
Through all the wide border his steed was the best,
And save his good broad-sword he weapon had none,
He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone.
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,
There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.
He staid not for brake, and he stopped 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 brave Lochinvar.
So boldly he entered the Netherby hall,
'Mong bride's-men, and kinsmen, and brothers, and ali:
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 am I 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 kissed the goblet; the knight took it up,
He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup.
She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh,
With a smile on her lips, 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 her 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 whispered, ""T were better by far
To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar."
One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,
When they reached the hall door, where the charger swood near; So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung,
So light to the saddle before her he sprung!
She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaun : They'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochinvar.
There was mounting 'mong Græmes of the Netherby clun: Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode, and they ran; There was racing and chasing on Canoby lea,
But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see.
THE VISION OF BELSHAZZAR.
THE king was on his throne,
The satraps thronged the hall;
A thousand bright lamps shone
O'er that high festival.
A thousand cups of gold,
In Judah deemed divine -
Jehovah's vessels - hold
The godless heathen's wine!
In that same hour and hall,
The fingers of a hand
Came forth against the wall,
And wrote as if on sand:
The fingers of a man,
A solitary hand
Along the letters ran,
And traced them like a wand.
The monarch saw, and shook,
And bade no more rejoice;
All bloodless waxed his look,
And tremulous his voice:
"Let the men of lore appear,
The wisest of the earth,
And expound the words of fear,
Which mar our royal mirth.”
Chaldea's seers are good,
But here they have no skill;
And the unknown letters stood
Untold and awful still.
And Babel's men of age
Are wise and deep in lore;
But now they were not sage,
They saw - but knew no more.
A captive in the land,
A stranger and a youth,
He heard the king's command,
He saw that writing's truth;
The lamps around were bright,
The prophecy in view;
He read it on that night, -
The morrow proved it true.
66 Belshazzar's grave is made,
His kingdom passed away;
He, in the balance weighed,
Is light and worthless clay.
The shroud his robe of state,
His canopy the stone;
The Mede is at his gate !
The Persian on his throne !"
IN slumbers of midnight, the sailor-boy lay;
His hammock swung loose at the sport of the wind;
But watch-worn and weary, his cares flew away,
And visions of happiness danced o'er his mind.
He dreamed of his home, of his dear native bowers,
And pleasures that waited on life's merry morn;
While memory stood sidewise, half covered with flowers,
And restored every rose, but secreted its thorn.
Then fancy her magical pinions spread wide,
And bade the young dreamer in ecstasy rise Now far, far behind him the green waters glide, And the cot of his forefathers blesses his eyes.
The jessamin clambers in flower o'er the thatch,
And the swallow sings sweet from her nest in the wal:
All trembling with transport, he raises the latch,
And the voices of loved ones reply to his call.
A father bends o'er him with looks of delight,
His cheek is impearled with a mother's warm tear,
And the lips of the boy in a love-kiss unite
With the lips of the maid whom his bosom holds dear.
The heart of the sleeper beats high in his breast,
Joy quickens his pulse-all his hardships seem o'er, And a murmur of happiness steals through his rest "O God, thou hast blest me I ask for no more."
Ah! whence is that flame, which now bursts on his eye
Ah! what is that sound which now larums his ear?
'Tis the lightning's red glare, painting hell on the sky!
"T is the crash of the thunder, the groan of the sphere!
He springs from his hammock -he flies to the deck;
Amazement confronts him with images dire—
Wild winds and mad waves drive the vessel a wreck -
The masts fly in splinters the shrouds are on fire!
Like mountains the billows tumultuously swell-
In vain the lost wretch calls on mercy to save;
Unseen hands of spirits are ringing his knell,
And the death-angel flaps his broad wings o'er the wave!
Oh, sailor-boy, woe to thy dream of delight;
In darkness dissolves the gay frost-work of blissWhere now is the picture that fancy touched bright, Thy parent's fond pressure, and love's honeyed kiss?
Oh, sailor-boy! sailor-boy! never again
Shall home, love, or kindred, thy wishes repay; Unblessed and unhonored, down deep in the main, Full many a score fathom, thy frame shall decay.
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