Tho' art's fair works and nature's gifts conspire 2. Where dost thou deign, say, in what blest retreat, 3. When boon companions, void of ev'ry care. 4. Surely more mild, more constant in their course 5. Thy aid, O ever faithful, ever kind! Through life, through death, attends the virtuous mind; Of angry fate wards from us ev'ry blow, Cures ev'ry ill, and softens ev'ry wo. Whatever good our mortal state desires, What wisdom finds, or innocence inspires; From nature's bounteous hand whatever flows, Whate'er our Maker's providence bestows,By thee mankind enjoys,-by thee repays A grateful tribute of perpetual praise. Fitzgerald SECTION IX. Night before the Battle of Waterloo. 1. THERE WAS a sound of revelry by night, Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again, 2. But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising Did ye not hear it?-No; 'twas but the wind Or the car rattling o'er the stony street; On with the dance! let joy be unconfin'd; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before! Arm! Arm! it is-it is-the cannon's opening roar ! 3. Within a windowed niche of that high hall 4. Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro, 5. And there was mounting in hot haste; the steed, The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, Or whispering with white lips-"The foe! They come! they come!" 6. 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 ears! 7. 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 valor, rolling on the foe, And burning with high hope, shall moulder cold and low. 8. 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 thunder-clouds close o'er it, which, when rent, CHAPTER V. PATHETIC PIECES. SECTION L. Lines written by one who had long been a resident in India, on his return to his native country. › 1. I CAME, but they had passed away- And, like a stricken deer, I stray Where all are strange, and none are kindKind to the worn, the wearied soul, That pants, that struggles for repose: O that my steps had reached the goal Where earthly sighs and sorrows close! 2. Years have passed o'er me, like a dream 1 That leaves no trace on memory's page: I look around me, and I seem Some relic of a former age. Alone, as in a stranger clime, Where stranger voices mock my ear, 3. Yet I had hopes-and they have fled; I may not, dare not, cast away; On one whom death disdains to free. 5. I leave the world that knows me not, To hold communion with the dead; And fancy consecrates the spot Where fancy's softest dreams are shed. I see each shade-all silvery whiteI hear each spirit's melting sigh; I turn to clasp those forms of light,And the pale morning chills my eye. 6. But soon the last dim morn shall rise,— The lamp of life burns feebly now,— When stranger hands shall close my eyes, And smooth my cold and dewy brow. Unknown I lived; so let me die: Nor stone, nor monumental cross, Tell where his nameless ashes lie, Who sighed for gold, and found it dross. SECTION II. The Winter Night. 1. Now Phoebe, in her midnight reign, When on my ear this plaintive strain 2" Blow, blow, ye winds, with heavier gust! Than heaven-illumin'd man on brother man bestows". 3. See stern oppression's iron grip, Or mad ambition's gory hand, Sending, like blood-hounds from the slip, 4. Even in the peaceful rural vale, With all the servile wretches in the rear,- Whose toil upholds the glittering show,— Some coarser substance, unrefined, Placed for her lordly use thus far, thus vile, below. 5. Where, where is love's fond, tender throe, With lordly honor's lofty brow, The powers you proudly own? Is there, beneath love's noble name, 6. O ye! who, sunk in beds of down, |