So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall,

'Mong bride's-men, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all: Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his swordFor the poor, craven bridegroom said never a word—

Oh, come ye in peace here, or come ye in war?—
Or to dance at our bridal?—young Lord Lochinvar !"
“Ilong wooed your daughter, my suit you denied:
Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide!
And now am I come, with this lost love of mine
To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine!-
There are maidens in Scotland, more lovely by far,
That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar !"
The bride kissed the goblet! The knight took it up,
He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup!
She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh-
With a smile on her lip, and a tear in her eye.
He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar,-
“Now tread we a measure!" said young Lochinvar.
So stately his form and so lovely her face,
That never a hall such a galliard did grace!

While her mother did fret, and her father did fume,
And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume;
And the bride-maidens whispered, ""Twere better by far,
To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar!"

One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,

When they reached the hall-door, and the charger stood nearSo light to the croupe the fair lady he swung,

So light to the saddle before her he sprung!

"She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur!

They'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochinvar.
There was mounting 'mong Græmes of the Netherby Clan;
Fosters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran;
There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lea-
But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see.
So daring in love, and so dauntless in war,

Have ye heard of gallant like the young Lochinvar ?

Rejoice-for souls of kindred fire
Are on the wing to join your choir!"
He said-and, light as bridegroom's bound,
With eager haste reclimbed the steep,
And gained the shrine:-his Chiefs stood round-
Their swords, as with instinctive leap,
Together, at that cry accurs'd,

Had, from their sheaths, like sunbeams, burst.
And, hark!-again-again it rings:
Near and more near its echoings

Peal through the chasm.-Oh! who that then
Had seen those listening warrior-men,
With their swords grasped, their eyes of flame
Turned on their Chief-could doubt the shame,
The indignant shame, with which they thrill,
To hear those shouts, and yet stand still?
He read their thoughts-they were his own:-
"What! while our arms can wield these blades,
Shall we die tamely? die alone?
Without one victim to our shades-
One Moslem heart, where, buried deep,
The sabre from its toil may sleep?
No!-God of Iran's burning skies!
Thou scorn'st the inglorious sacrifice.
No!-though of all earth's hopes bereft,
Life, swords, and vengeance, still are left!
We'll make yon valley's reeking caves

Live in the awe-struck minds of men,
Till tyrants shudder, when their slaves
Tell of the Ghebers' bloody glen.
Follow, brave hearts!-this pile remains,
Our refuge still from life and chains;
But his the best, the holiest bed,
Who sinks entombed in Moslem dead!"

XVII. THE EXILE OF ERIN.-Campbell.

THERE came to the beach a poor Exile of Erin,
The dew on his thin robe was heavy and chill;
For his country he sighed, when at twilight repairing
To wander alone by the wild-beaten hill:

But the day-star attracted his eye's sad devotion;
For it rose o'er his own native isle of the ocean,
Where once, in the fervour of youth's warm emotion,
He sang the bold anthem of ERIN GO BRAGH!

"Sad is my 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 lived, shall I spend the sweet hours; Or cover my harp 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 that 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? Where is the mother that looked on my childhood? And where is the bosom-friend dearer than all? Ah! my sad soul, long abandoned by pleasure! Why didst thou dote on a fast-fading treasure? Tears, like the rain-drops, may fall without measure; But rapture and beauty they cannot recall! "Yet-all its sad recollections suppressingOne dying wish my lone bosom shall draw :Erin! an exile bequeaths thee-his blessing! Land of my forefathers! ERIN GO BRAGH Buried and cold, when my heart stills her motion, Green be thy fields, sweetest isle of the ocean!

And thy harp-striking bards sing aloud with devotion, ERIN MAVOURNEEN! ERIN GO BRAGH!"

XVIII.-TELL'S BIRTH-PLACE.-Coleridge.

MARK this holy chapel well!

The birth-place this of William Tell.
Here, where stands Heaven's altar dread,

Stood his parents' humble shed.

Here first an infant to the breast,
Him his loving mother pressed;

And kissed the babe, and blessed the day,
And prayed, as mothers used to pray:

"Vouchsafe him health, O Heaven! and give
The child, thy servant, still to live!"
But God had destined to do more

Through him, than through an armed power.

He gave him reverence of laws,

Yet stirring blood in Freedom's cause-
A spirit to his rocks akin—

The eye of the hawk, and the fire therein!

To Nature and to Holy Writ

Alone did He the boy commit:

Where flashed and roared the torrent oft
His soul found wings, and soared aloft!

The straining oar and chamois' chace

Had formed his limbs to strength and grace:
On wave and wind the boy would toss-
Was great, nor knew how great he was!

He knew not that his chosen hand
(Made strong by Heaven) his native land
Would rescue, from the shameful yoke
Of slavery-the which he broke !

XIX-FLIGHT OF XERXES.-Miss Jewsbury.

I SAW him on the battle-eve,
When like a king he bore him—
Proud hosts in glittering helm and greave,
And prouder chiefs before him!
The warrior, and the warrior's deeds,
The morrow, and the morrow's meeds-
No daunting thoughts came o'er him:
He looked around him, and his eye
Defiance flashed to earth and sky!
He looked on ocean,-its broad breast
Was covered with his fleet:

On earth, and saw from east to west
His bannered millions meet:

While rock, and glen, and cave, and coast,
Shook with the war-cry of that host.
The thunder of their feet!

He heard the imperial echoes ring-
He heard, and felt himself a king!
I saw him next alone:-nor camp
Nor chief his steps attended:
Nor banners' blaze, nor coursers' tramp,
With war-cries proudly blended.
He stood alone, whom fortune high
So lately seemed to deify;

He who with Heaven contended,
Fled, like a fugitive and slave;
Behind, the foe!-before, the wave!

He stood-fleet, army, treasure, gone,-
Alone, and in despair!

While waves and wind swept ruthless on,
For they were monarchs there;

And Xerxes, in a single bark,

Where late his thousand ships were dark,

Must all their fury dare!—

What a revenge!-a trophy this,

For thee, immortal Salamis!

XX.-GLENARA.-Campbell.

Oh, HEARD ye yon pibroch sound sad on the gale, Where a band cometh slowly with weeping and wail? "Tis the chief of Glenara laments for his dear,

And her sire and her people are called to the bier.

Glenara came first with the mourners and shroud;
Her kinsmen they followed, but mourned not aloud:
Their plaids all their bosoms were folded around;
They marched all in silence-they looked to the ground:
In silence they reached over mountain and moor,
To a heath where the oak-tree grew lonely and hoar:
"Now here let us place the gray stone of her cairn:
Why speak ye no word ?" said Glenara the stern.
"And tell me, I charge you, ye clan of my spouse,
Why fold ye your mantles? why cloud ye your brows?"
So spake the rude chieftain; no answer is made,
But each mantle unfolding, a dagger displayed!
"I dreamed of my lady, I dreamed of her shroud,"
Cried a voice from the kinsmen all wrathful and loud;
"And empty that shroud and that coffin did seem:
Glenara! Glenara! now read me my dream!"
Oh! pale grew the cheek of the chieftain, I ween,
When the shroud was unclosed, and no body was seen!
Then a voice from the kinsmen spoke louder, in scorn,-
'Twas the youth that had loved the fair Ellen of Lorn !—
"I dreamed of my lady, I dreamed of her grief,
I dreamed that her lord was a barbarous chief;
On a rock of the ocean fair Ellen did seem:--
Glenara! Glenara! now read me my dream!"
In dust, low the traitor has knelt to the ground,
And the desert revealed where his lady was found:
From a rock of the ocean that beauty is borne:
Now joy to the house of fair Ellen of Lorn!

XXI.-HARMOSAN.-Dr. Trench.

Now the third and fatal conflict for the Persian throne was done,
And the Moslems' fiery valour had the crowning victory won:
Harmosan, the last of foemen, and the boldest to defy,
Captive, overborne by numbers, they were bringing forth to die.
Then exclaimed that noble Satrap, "Lo, I perish in my thirst;
Give me but one drink of water, and let then arrive the worst."
In his hand he took the goblet, but awhile the draught forbore,
Seeming doubtfully the purpose of the victors to explore.

"But what fear'st thou ?" cried the Caliph :

66 dost thou dread a secret

blow ?" Fear it not; our gallant Moslems no such treacherous dealings know. Thou may'st quench thy thirst securely; for thou shalt not die before Thou hast drunk that cup of water :-this reprieve is thine-no more.' Quick the Satrap dashed the goblet down to earth with ready hand, And the liquid sunk,-for ever lost, amid the burning sand: "Thou hast said that mine my life is, till the water of that cup I have drained:-then bid thy servants that spilled water gather up."