THE BENDED BOW. THERE was heard the sound of a coming foe, "Heard ye not the battle horn? Arm! ere Britain's turf grow red! "Hunter! leave the mountain chase! Let the wolf go free to-day; Arm thee! Britain's foes are nigh!" And the hunter armed, ere the chase was done. "Chieftain! quit the joyous feast! Arm thee! Britain's foes must fall!" And the chieftain armed, and the horn was blown; "Prince! thy father's deeds are told Foes are on thy native sea, Give our bards a tale of thee!" And the prince came armed, like a leader's son "Mother! stay thou not thy boy! He must learn the battle's joy. Sister! bring the sword and spear, Britain calls the strong in heart!" And the bended bow and the voice passed on; LOCHINVAR. MRS. BEMA 13 Он, young Lochinvar is come out of the west, Through all the wide border his steed was the best, So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, He staid not for brake, and he stopped not for stone, The bride had consented, the gallant came late; So boldly he entered the Netherby hall, 'Mong bride's-men, and kinsmen, and brothers, and ali: "I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied ; The bride kissed the goblet; the knight took it up, So stately his form, and so lovely her face, While her mother did fret and her father did fume, And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume; 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! 6. 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. SCOTT. THE VISION OF BELSHAZZAR. THE king was on his throne, In that same hour and hall, And wrote as if on sand: A solitary hand Along the letters ran, And traced them like a wand. The monarch saw, and shook, "Let the men of lore appear, Chaldea's seers are good, But here they have no skill; Are wise and deep in lore; A captive in the land, A stranger and a youth, 66 Belshazzar's grave is made, Is light and worthless clay. The Persian on his throne !" BYRON THE SAILOR-BOY'S DREAM. IN slumbers of midnight, the sailor-boy lay; His hammock swung loose at the sport of the wind; He dreamed of his home, of his dear native bowers, 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, A father bends o'er him with looks of delight, 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." e? Ah! whence is that flame, which now bursts on his eye He springs from his hammock -he flies to the deck; Like mountains the billows tumultuously swell- 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. |