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AND ARE THE MOMENTS PAST.
BY JOHN NEWLAND MAPPIT.
And are the moments past
The loved ones flown?
To weep alone?
The withered garland lie
And fond ones sigh?
Must hearts long blest and true
Be severed now?
To sorrow bow?
That shone in friendship's sky,
When sunbeams die?
/ The joyous hours are fled
Like spring's young flowers! The beautiful are dead
In life's gay bowers! No more, in union sweet,
Our hearts will here agree, We never more may meet
Ah, shall we meet no more
While life shall last,
To wake the past?
But will in realms above;
The friends we love!
POLAND AND LIBERTY.
BY MISS LESLIE.
Hail to the eagle's flight of glory,
Now soaring mid the northern skies; Fair Freedom's eagle—be his story
The same where'er his pinions rise.
From his bright glance the sunlight streaming
First gave Columbia's stars to shine,
Then coloured France's rainbow sign;
And now o'er half the world is beaming.
March on, march on, ye brave,
To triumph or to fall:
Hark! from the desert's farthest regions
The shouting Cossacks rend the air; Though victors o'er the Moslem legions,
They know not all that patriots dare.
Fair Poland's plains before them lying,
No Balkan heights now intervene,
No mountain barriers rise between,
The fierce invader's course defying.
"Come on, come on, ye slaves,
In soul, at least, we're free:
Then wealth was lavished without measure
To aid that cause, all else above;
The sacred ring of married love.
BY LUCY HOOPER.
Oh wake thee, lady, wake—
The stars are on the sea, And their holy torches burn
But for thee, love, for thee! Oh! wake thee, lady, wake—
In the day's sweet prime Other voices whisper thee,
Winning tones from thine:
But at night, but at night,
Wake for me, wake for me, When the burning stars are bright
On the quiet sea. When the moon is softly beaming
As I come to thee, And the jasmine buds are gleaming,
Wake thee, love, for me.
As a holy torch that shineth,
Though no eye may see,
Is my love for thee.
And keep thy tryst to-night,
And the holy stars are bright.