But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat, at dead of night, By torch and trumpet fast arrayed, Then shook the hills with thunder riven, But redder yet that light shall glow, "Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulph'rous canopy. The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory, or the grave! Wave, Munich! all thy banners wave, And charge with all thy chivalry! Few, few shall part where many meet! The snow shall be their winding-sheet, And every turf beneath their feet Shall be a soldier's sepulchre. THE SOLDIER'S DREAM. OUR bugles sang truce-for the night-cloud had lowered, And the sentinel stars set their watch in the sky; And thousands had sunk on the ground overpowered, When reposing that night on my pallet of straw, By the wolf-scaring fagot that guarded the slain; Methought from the battle-field's dreadful array, To the home of my fathers, that welcomed me back. I flew to the pleasant fields 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 66 And my wife sobbed aloud in her fulness of heart. Stay, stay with us―rest, thou art weary and worn”- But sorrow returned with the dawning of morn, LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER. A CHIEFTAIN, to the Highlands bound, Cries, "Boatman, do not tarry! And I'll give thee a silver pound To row us o'er the ferry." "Now who be ye, would cross Lochgyle, This dark and stormy water?" "And fast before her father's men Three days we've fled together; For should he find us in the glen, My blood would stain the heather. "His horsemen hard behind us ride; Outspoke the hardy Highland wight: It is not for your silver bright, "And by my word! the bonny bird So, though the waves are raging white, By this the storm grew loud apace; And in the scowl of heaven each face But still as wilder blew the wind, "O haste thee, haste!" the lady cries, The boat has left a stormy land, When, oh! too strong for human hand, And still they rowed amidst the roar For sore dismayed, through storm and shade One lovely hand she stretched for aid, "Come back! come back!" he cried in grief, 'Across this stormy water; And I'll forgive your Highland chief, My daughter!-O my daughter!" Twas vain :-the loud waves lashed the shore, The waters wild went o'er his child, And he was left lamenting. BATTLE OF THE BALTIC. I. F Nelson and the North OF Sing the glorious day's renown, When to battle fierce came forth All the might of Denmark's crown, In a bold, determined hand, And the Prince of all the land Lay their bulwarks on the brine; While the sign of battle flew On the lofty British line It was ten of April morn by the chime. And the boldest held his breath For a time. III. But the might of England flushed To anticipate the scene; |