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And sink to sleep in the great sea-deep,
In its palace all of pearl.

And theirs was a bliss more fair than this
Which we taste in our colder clime;
For they were rife in a tropic life—

A brighter and better clime.

They swam 'mid isles whose summer smiles
Were dimmed by no alloy;

Whose groves were palm, whose air was balm,
And life one only joy.

They sailed all day through creek and bay,
And traversed the ocean deep;

And at night they sank on a coral bank,
In its fairy bowers to sleep.

And the monsters vast of ages past
They beheld in their ocean caves;

They saw them ride in their power and pride,
And sink in their deep-sea graves.

And hand in hand, from strand to strand,
They sailed in mirth and glee;

These fairy shells, with their crystal cells,
Twin sisters of the sea.

And they came at last to a sea long past,
But as they reached its shore,

The Almighty's breath spoke out in death,
And the ammonite was no more.

So the nautilus now in its shelly prow,
As over the deep it strays,

Still seems to seek, in bay and creek,
Its companion of other days.

And alike do we, on life's stormy sea,

As we roam from shore to shore,
Thus tempest-tossed, seek the loved, the lost,
And find them on earth no more.

Yet the hope how sweet, again to meet,

As we look to a distant strand,

Where heart meets heart, and no more they part

Who meet in that better land.

ANONYMOUS.

Carmen Bellicosum.

IN their ragged regimentals
Stood the old Continentals,
Yielding not,

When the grenadiers were lunging,
And like hail fell the plunging

Cannon-shot;

When the files

Of the isles,

[rampant

From the smoky night encampment, bore the banner of the

Unicorn,

[drummer,

And grummer, grummer, grummer rolled the roll of the

Through the morn!

Then with eyes to the front all,
And with guns horizontal,

Stood our sires;

And the balls whistled deadly,

And in streams flashing redly
Blazed the fires;

As the roar

On the shore,

Swept the strong battle-breakers o'er the green-sodded acres Of the plain;

And louder, louder, louder cracked the black gunpowder,

Cracking amain!

Now like smiths at their forges
Worked the red St. George's
Cannoneers;

And the "villainous saltpetre"
Rung a fierce, discordant metre
Round their ears;

As the swift

Storm-drift,

With hot sweeping anger, came the horse-guard's clangor On our flanks.

Then higher, higher, higher burned the old-fashioned fire Through the ranks!

Then the old-fashioned colonel
Galloped through the white infernal
Powder-cloud;

And his broadsword was swinging,
And his brazen throat was ringing

Trumpet loud.

Then the blue

Bullets flew,

And the trooper-jackets redden at the touch of the leaden

Rifle-breath;

And rounder, rounder, rounder roared the iron six-pounder,

Hurling death!

GUY HUMPHREY MCMASTER.

Doris.

I SAT with Doris, the shepherd maiden;
Her crook was laden with wreathed flowers.
I sat and wooed her through sunlight wheeling,
And shadows stealing for hours and hours.

And she my Doris, whose lap incloses

Wild summer roses of faint perfume,

The while I sued her, kept hushed and hearkened
Till shades had darkened from gloss to gloom.

She touched my shoulder with fearful finger;
She said, "We linger, we must not stay;
My flock's in danger, my sheep will wander;
Behold them yonder, how far they stray!"

I answered bolder, "Nay, let me hear you,
And still be near you, and still adore!
No wolf nor stranger will touch one yearling—
Ah! stay my darling a moment more!"

She whispered sighing, "There will be sorrow
Beyond to-morrow, if I lose to-day;
My fold unguarded, my flock unfolded—
I shall be scolded and sent away!"

Said I replying, "If they do miss you,

They ought to kiss you when you get home; And well rewarded by friend and neighbor Should be the labor from which you come."

"They might remember," she answered meekly, "That lambs are weakly and sheep are wild; But if they love me it 's none so ferventI am a servant and not a child."

Then each hot ember glowed quick within me, And love did win me to swift reply:

"Ah! do but prove me, and none shall bind you, Nor fray nor find you until I die!"

She blushed and started, and stood awaiting,
As if debating in dreams divine;
But I did brave them-I told her plainly,
She doubted vainly, she must be mine.

So we twin-hearted, from all the valley
Did rouse and rally her nibbling ewes;
And homeward drove them, we two together,
Through blooming heather and gleaming dews.

That simple duty such grace did lend her,
My Doris tender, my Doris true,
That I her warder did always bless her,
And often press her to take her due.

And now in beauty she fills my dwelling
With love excelling, and undefiled;

And love doth guard her, both fast and fervent,
No more a servant, nor yet a child.

ARTHUR MUNBY.

The Exile to his Wife.

COME to me, darling, I'm lonely without thee;
Day-time and night-time I 'm dreaming about thee;
Night-time and day-time in dreams I behold thee,
Unwelcome the waking that ceases to fold thee.
Come to me, darling, my sorrows to lighten;
Come in thy beauty, to bless and to brighten;
Come in thy womanhood, meekly and lowly;
Come in thy lovliness, queenly and holy.

Swallows shall flit round the desolate ruin,
Telling of Spring and its joyous renewing;
As thoughts of thy love and its manifest treasure
Are circling my heart with a promise of pleasure.
O Spring of my heart! O May of my bosom!
Shine out on my soul till it bourgeon and blossom.
The waste of my life has a rose-root within it,
And thy fondness alone to the sunshine can win it.

Figure which moves like a song through the even,
Features lit up with a reflex of heaven,
Eyes like the skies of poor Erin, our mother,
Where sunshine and shadow are chasing each other;
Smiles coming seldom, but childlike and simple;
And opening their eyes from the heart of a dimple;
O, thanks to the Saviour that even the seeming
Is left to the exile, to brighten his dreaming.

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