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Though great in war, in peace as great
Rear the monument of Fame;
For him, whose worth, though unexpress'd,
But why for him vain marbles raise ?
And may she ever rise in Fame,
LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER.- Campbell.
Cries, Boatman, do not tarry!
Now who be ye, would cross Lochgyle,
• This dark and stormy water !'"Oh, I'm the chief of Ulva's isle,
• And this Lord Ullin's daughter...
* And fast before her father's men
Three days we've fled together,
* 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 mty 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 of heav'n 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.• Oh, 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,
A stormy sea before her,
The tempest gather'd o'er her.
Of waters fast prevailing :
His wrath was chang'd to wailing.--
His child he did discover :
And one was round her lover. • Come back ! come back !' he cried in grief,
Across this stormy water : · And I'll forgive your Highland chief,
. My daughter-oh my daughter!''Twas vain : the loud waves lash'd the shore,
Return or aid preventing :-
And he was left lamenting.
From Young's Night-Thoughts,
And shall we then, for virtue's sake, commence
peace; In prospect richer far ; important ! awful ! Not to be mention’d but with shouts of praise ! Not to be thought on, but with tides of joy! The mighty basis of eternal bliss !
EXILE OF ERIN.--Campbell.
There came to the beach a poor Exile of Erin,
The dew on his thin robe was heavy and chill :
To wander alone by the wind-beaten hill.
He sang the bold anthem of Erin-go-bragh.
fate! said the heart-broken stranger, The wild deer and wolf to a covert can flee; But I have no refuge from famine and danger,
A home and a country remain not to me. Never again, in the green sunny bowers, Where
my forefathers liv'd, shall I spend the sweet hours, Or cover my heart with the wild-woven flowers,
And strike to the numbers of Erin-go-bragh! Erin, my country! though sad and forsaken,
In dreams I revisit thy sea-beaten shore ; But alas ! in a far foreign land I awaken,
And sigh for the friends who can meet me no more! Oh cruel fate! wilt thou never replace me In a mansion of peace--where no perils can chase me? Never again, shall my brothers embrace me?
They died to defend me, or live to deplore ! Where is my cabin-door, fast by the wild wood ?
Sisters and sire ! did ye weep for its fall ?
And where is the bosom-friend, dearer than all ?
But rapture and beauty they cannot recall.
One dying wish my lone bosom can draw : Erin! an exile bequeathes thee his blessing !
Land of my forefathers! Erin-go-bragh! Buried and cold, when my heart stills her motion, Green be thy field-sweetest isle of the ocean ! And may harp-striking bards sing aloud with devotionErin mavournin !- Erin-go-bragh!
I wish the press-gang or the drum,
With its tantara sounds would come,
But for the poor dear sake of one
To whom a foul deed he had done,
A penny on the ground had thrown ;
But the poor cripple was alone
So with his staff, the cripple wrought
Among the dust, till he had brought
The cripple, at the mid-day heat,
Standing alone, and at his feet
Quoth Andrew, “ under half a crown
What a man finds is all his own,
Will all be trained to waste and pillage;
And wish'd the press gang or the drum,
THE WOUNDED HUSSAR.Campbell, Alone to the banks of the dark-rolling Danube
Fair Adelaide hied when the battle was o'er :