SONG OF THE WARRIORS THE NIGHT PRECEDING THE BATTLE THIS night, ye hardy yeomen! wield Toil on! toil on! ye true and brave, Who sleeps when lustful tyrants wake? Toil on! toil on! 'tis glorious cheer-- On Charles's tossing wave below YE SPIRITS OF THE JUST. YE spirits of the just, that soar Beyond those starry fields sublime, Dwellers in light with whom are o’er The pageants and the tears of time,Say, are the thoughts we entertain Of yonder unknown worlds, untrue? Are those high mysteries but vain, Dissolved, or unrevealed to you? Prophets a long and awful train, Pilgrims, that bowed beneath the rod, And martyrs who from racks of pain Soared to the presence of your God— Earth gave ye not her poor renown; Humility your only gem 'Twas yours to seek a nobler crown, Say, wear ye now that diadem? Thou disembodied one whom here 'Twas ours, in fellowship, to know; Who, buoyed by Faith, without a fear, Fled from endearments prized below; On the dear hopes that soothed thy bed, Hath disappointment flung its pall? Or dost thou bosom now thy head On HIM, thou chosest as thy All? Forbear-yon ministering one Thine eyes, in flesh, shall never see; The dull cold sepulchre, its own, A cheering beam of heaven is shed; TO THE HOLY ALLIANCE. SLAVES of royalty advance! Touch our soil, and that true spirit, Shame that men-God's image wearing- A a Men they are not, whose curst daring Shrink ye traitors, for the sword, Holy despots! not in regions Warmed with Liberty's fair beam, Should the tyrant halt his legions, Should the sword of bandits gleam: Haste to yon inglorious clime, Where of earth abide the stain; Nations sunk in sloth and crime; Haste to Naples, haste to Spain. Rise ye Patriots, to recover Battles with the craven host; MINA, yet, the lion-hearted, To redeem his race shall fly; Chiefs shall rally, though long parted, Roused by RIEGO's dying cry. 1826. DEATH OF FISK, AMERICAN MISSIONARY AT PALESTINE. WENT he unto that holy land, In panoply arrayed, With banner and with gleaming brand, Or unto Helena's* proud shrine Did he at altars deemed divine, With kings and warriors bend? He wept where martyrs wept, and prayed Where sleep, beneath the palm-tree's shade, He trod not Olivet's ascent With thought of high emprize; He went as sandalled pilgrims went, In meek and lowly guise. *The original building, erected A. D. 326, was destroyed at the beginning of the eleventh century, and rebuilt by a Greek empe ror in 1048. Nicephorus enumerates twenty-six churches and chapels, built by the empress Helena in the Holy Land.-Clarke's Travels. |