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And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,
And there lay the steed, with his nostril all wide,
And there lay the rider distorted and pale,
And the widows of Asshura are loud in their wail,
1 Sennacherib was the most powerful
of Assyrian monarchs ; he invaded Palestine in the time of Hezekiah for the purpose of preventing the union of the Hebrew and Egyptian armies. After the fearful overthrow narrated in the poem, he was assassinated by two of his sons
(2 Chron. xxxii. 21). 2 Asshur was the second son of Shem,
and gave his name to the vast
territory of Assyria. 3 Baal, Bel, or Belus was, in one form or
other, the supreme god of the Phænicians, Carthaginians, Syri
ans, and many other nations, 4 Gentile. This term was applied to all
who did not belong to the Jewish nation.
THE SOLDIER'S DREAM.
Our bugles sang truce l—for the night-cloud had lowered, 2
And the sentinel stars set their watch in the sky; And thousands had sunk on the ground overpowered
The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die. When reposing that night on my pallet 3 of straw,
By the wolf-scaring fagot that guarded the slain ; At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw,
And thrice ere the morning I dreamed it again.
Methought, from the battle-field's dreadful array,
Far, far I had roamed on a desolate track; 'Twas autumn-and sunshine arose on the way
To the home of my fathers, that welcomed me back.
I flew to the pleasant field, traversed so oft
In life's morning march, when my bosom was young ; I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft,
And knew the sweet strain that the corn-reapers sung.
Then pledged we the wine-cup, and fondly I swore,
From my home and my weeping friends never to part; My little ones kissed me a thousand times o'er, And my
wife sobbed aloud in her fullness of heart :
"Stay, stay with us-rest, thou art weary and worn;'
And fain was their war-broken soldier to stayBut sorrow returned with the dawning of morn, And the voice in my dreaming ears melted away.
1 Bugles sang truce, gave the signal to
cease fighting for a time. 2 The night-cloud had lowered, darkness
had set in.
3 Pallet, couch or bed.
frighten away wolves.
I stood on the bridge at midnight,
As the clocks were striking the hour,
Behind the dark church-tower.
I saw her bright reflection
In the waters under me,
And sinking into the sea.
And far in the hazy distance
Of that lovely night in June, The blaze of the flaming furnace
Gleamed redder than the moon.
Among the long black rafters
The wavering shadows lay, And the current that came from the ocean
Seemed to lift and bear them away ;
As sweeping and eddying through them,
Rose the belated tide,
The sea-weed floated wide.
And like those waters rushing
Among the wooden piers,
That filled my eyes with tears.
How often, oh, how often,
In the days that had gone by,
And gazed on that wave and sky!
How often, oh, how often,
I had wished that the ebbing tide Would bear me away on its bosom
O'er the ocean wild and wide!
heart was hot and restless,
life was full of care, And the burden laid upon me
Seemed greater than I could bear.
But now it has fallen from me,
It is buried in the sea ;
Throws its shadow over me.
LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER.
Yet whenever I cross the river
On its bridge with wooden piers,
Comes the thought of other years,
“Now, who be ye would cross Lochgyle,
This dark and stormy water ?'
And this, Lord Ullin's daughter.
• And fast before her father's men
Three days we've fled together ; For should be find us in the glen,
My blood would stain the heather.
‘His horsemen hard behind us ride ;
Should they our steps discover, Then who will cheer my bonny bride,
When they have slain her lover?'
Out spoke the hardy Highland wight:?
'I'll go, my chief—I'm ready : It is not for your silver bright,
But for your winsome lady :
' And, by my word ! the bonny bird
In danger shall not tarry ; So, though the waves are raging white,
I'll row you o'er the ferry.'
By this the storm grew
apace, The water-wraith was shrieking; And in the scowl 4 of heaven each face
Grew dark as they were speaking.
But still, as wilder blew the wind,
And as the night grew drearer, Adown the glen rode armed men
Their trampling sounded nearer.
O haste thee, haste !' the lady cries,
Though tempests round us gather ; I'll meet the raging of the skies,
But not an angry father.'
The boat has left a stormy land,
When, oh! too strong for human hand,
The tempest gathered o'er her.