The foe himself recoiled aghast, When, striking where he strongest lay, Our banners on those turrets wave, And there our evening bugles play; We are not many-we who pressed THE SOLDIER'S DREAM. THOMAS CAMPBELL. OUR bugles sang truce, for the night-cloud had lowered, When reposing that night on my pallet of straw, And thrice ere the morning I dreamed it again. Methought, from the battle-field's dreadful array, I flew to the pleasant fields, traversed so oft In life's morning march, when my bosom was young; I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft, And knew the sweet strain that the corn-reapers sung. Then pledged we the wine-cup, and fondly I swore From my home and my weeping friends never to part; My little ones kissed me a thousand times o'er, 66 And my wife sobbed aloud in her fulness of heart. 'Stay, stay with us,―rest, thou art weary and worn!" YE MARINERS OF ENGLAND. THOMAS CAMPBELL. YE mariners of England, That guard our native seas, Your glorious standard launch again And sweep through the deep, While the battle rages loud and long, The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave! For the deck it was their field of fame, And ocean was their grave. Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell Your manly hearts shall glow As ye sweep through the deep, While the stormy tempests blow; While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy tempests blow. Britannia needs no bulwark, No towers along the steep; Her march is o'er the mountain-waves, With thunders from her native oak She quells the floods below, When the stormy tempests blow; The meteor flag of England Till danger's troubled night depart, Then, then, ye ocean warriors! When the storm has ceased to blow ; SOUND THE LOUD TIMBREL. MIRIAM'S SONG. THOMAS Moore. SOUND the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea! His chariots, his horsemen, all splendid and brave,- Praise to the Conqueror, praise to the Lord! Of those she sent forth in the hour of her pride? For the Lord hath looked out from his pillar of glory, And all her brave thousands are dashed in the tide. Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea! Jehovah hath triumphed, his people are free! |