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Tlie following pieces may so far he considered a series,
as each is intended to be commemorative of some national recollection, popular custom, or tradition. The idea was suggested by Herder's “ Stimmen der Volker in Liedern;" the execution is however different, as the poems in his collection are chiefly translations. Most of those forming the present one have appeared, as
well as the miscellaneous pieces attached to them, in the New Monthly Magazine.
MOORISH BRIDAL SONG.
It is a custom among the Moors, that a female who dies unmarried is clothed for interment in wedding apparel, and the bridal song is sung over her remains before they
are borne from her home. See the Narrative of a Ten Years' Residence in
Tripoli, by the sister-in-law of Mr. Tully.
THE citron groves their fruit and flowers were strewing
Music and voices, from the marble halls,
A song of joy, a bridal song came swelling,
" The bride comes forth! her tears no more are falling To leave the chamber of her infant years; Kind voices from a distant home are calling; She comes like day-spring-she hath done with tears; Now must her dark eye shine on other flowers, Her soft smile gladden other hearts than ours !
Pour the rich odors round!
Her beauty leaves us in its rosy years;
--Now may the timbrel sound!”
Her graceful ringlets o'er a bier were spread, ---Weep for the young, the beautiful,--the dead?
THE BIRD'S RELEASE.
The Indians of Bengal and of the Coast of Malabar bring cages filled with birds to the graves of their friends, over which thcy set the birds at liberty. This custom is alluded to in the description of Virginia's funeral.
See Paul and Virginia.
Go forth, for she is gone!
She hath left her dwelling lone!
Her voice hath pass'd away!
Where we may not trace its way.
Go forth, and like her be free!
And what is our grief to thee?
Is it aught ev'n.to her we mourn ?
Or float on the light wind borne ?
We know not-but she is gone!
She hath left her dwelling love!
When the waves at sunset shine,
But we shall not know 'tis thine !
Ev'n so with the lov'd one flown!
Around us-but all unknown.
Go forth, we have loos'd thy chain !
But thou wilt not be lured again.
Ev'n thus may the summer pour
But wins her back no more!
THE SWORD OF THE TOMB.
A NORTHERN LEGNND.
The idea of this ballad is taken from a scene in “Starkother," a tragedy by thc Danish poet Ochlenschlager. The sepulchral fire here alluded to, and supposed to guard the ashes of deceased heroes is frequently mentioned m the Northern Sagas. Severe sufferings to the departed were supposed by the Scandinavian mythologists to be the consequence of any profanation of the sepulchre.
See Ochlenschlager's Plays.
Voice of the buried past !
On the billow and the blast.”
Then the torrents of the North,
From the dark sepulchral hill.
In the shadow of the night.
6. There is laid a sword in thy father's tomb,
For the viewless have fearful might!".
Then died the solemn lay,
Through the wild and stormy skies.
By the fires of Northern pine.
Gave warning, with voice and sign.
But the wind strange magic knows,
When night is on her throne.
* But his road through dimness lay!
Arose on his midnight way.
Then first a moment's chill
Before that place of rest.
With a strange and solemn light.