But meeter for thee, gentle lover of nature, To lay down thy head like the meek mountain lamb: Welcome, from sweeping o'er sea and through channel, Hardships and danger despising for fame, When, wilder'd, he drops from some cliff huge in Furnishing story for glory's bright annal, stature, And draws his last sob by the side of his dam. And more stately thy couch by this desert lake lying,, Thy obsequies sung by the gray plover flying, Welcome, my wanderer, to Jeanie and hame! Enough, now thy story in annals of glory, Has humbled the pride of France, Holland, and Spain; With one faithful friend but to witness thy dying, No more shalt thou grieve me, no more shalt thou In the arms of Hellvellyn and Catchedicam. leave me, I never will part with my Willie again. WANDERING WILLIE. ALL joy was bereft me the day that you left me, And climb'd the tall vessel to sail yon wide sea; O weary betide it! I wander'd beside it, And bann'd it for parting my Willie and me. Far o'er the wave hast thou follow'd thy fortune, Oft fought the squadrons of France and of Spain; Ae kiss of welcome's worth twenty at parting, Now I hae gotten my Willie again. When the sky it was mirk, and the winds they were wailing, I sat on the beach wi' the tear in my e'e, And thought o' the bark where my Willie was sailing, And wish'd that the tempest could a' blaw on me. Now that thy gallant ship rides at her mooring, When the lights they did blaze, and the guns they did rattle, And blithe was each heart for the great victory, In secret I wept for the dangers of battle, And thy glory itself was scarce comfort to me. But now shalt thou tell, while I eagerly listen, For sweet after danger's the tale of the war. And O! how we doubt when there's distance 'tween lovers, When there's naething to speak to the heart thro' the e'e; How often the kindest and warmest prove rovers, And the love of the faithfullest ebbs like the sea. Till, at times, could I help it? I pined and I ponder'd, If love could change notes like the bird on the tree Now I'll ne'er ask if thine eyes may hae wander'd, Enough, thy leal heart has been constant to me. HUNTING SONG. WAKEN, lords and ladies gay, With hawk, and horse, and hunting spear; Waken, lords and ladies gay, The mist has left the mountain gray, Waken, lords and ladies gay, Louder, louder chant the lay, THE BARD'S INCANTATION. WRITTEN UNDER THE THREAT OF INVASION, IN THE AUTUMN OF 1804. THE forest of Glenmore is drear, It is all of black pine and the dark oak tree; And the midnight wind to the mountain deer Is whistling the forest lullaby: The moon looks through the drifting storm, There is a voice among the trees That mingles with the groaning oak- And the lake-waves dashing against the rock; The voice of the bard in fitful mood; His song was louder than the blast, As the bard of Glenmore through the forest past. "Wake ye from your sleep of death, Minstrels and bards of other days! "Souls of the mighty, wake and say, To what high strain your harps were strung, And on your shores her Norsemen flung? "Mute are ye all: No murmurs strange Nor through the pines with whistling change, "O yet awake the strain to tell, By every deed in song enroll'd, For Albion's weal in battle bold;- "By all their swords, by all their scars, At the dread voice of other years "When targets clash'd, and bugles rung, And hymn'd the joys of Liberty !" ROMANCE OF DUNOIS. THE original of this little romance makes part of a manuscript collection of French songs, probably compiled by some young officer, which was found on the field of Waterloo, so much stained with clay and blood, as sufficiently to indicate The what had been the fate of its late owner. song is popular in France, and is rather a good specimen of the style of composition to which it be longs. The translation is strictly literal. Ir was Dunois, the young and brave, But first he made his orison Before Saint Mary's shrine: "And grant, immortal queen of heaven," His oath of honour on the shrine He graved it with his sword, They owed the conquest to his arm, And then they bound the holy knot That were in chapel there, THE TROUBADOUR. GLOWING with love, on fire for fame, A Troubadour that hated sorrow, Beneath his lady's window came, My arm it is my country's right, Befits the gallant Troubadour." And while he march'd with helm on head The minstrel burden still he sung: "My arm it is my country's right, My heart is in my lady's bower; Resolved for love and fame to fight, I come, a gallant Troubadour." E'en when the battle-roar was deep, With dauntless heart he hew'd his way 'Mid splintering lance and falchion-sweep, And still was heard his warrior-lay : "My life it is my country's right, My heart is in my lady's bower; For love to die, for fame to fight, Becomes the valiant Troubadour." Alas! upon the bloody field He fell beneath the foeman's glaive, But still, reclining on his shield, Expiring sung th' exulting stave: "My life it is my country's right, My heart is in my lady's bower; For love and fame to fall in fight, Becomes the valiant Troubadour." CARLE, NOW THE KING'S COME." THE news has flown frae mouth to mouth; Carle, now the king's come. CHORUS. Carle, now the king's come! Auld England held him lang and fast; Auld Reikie, in her rokela gray, But, Carle, now the king's come! She's skirling frae the Castle Hill, Carle, now the king's come! "Up, bairns," she cries, "baith great and sma', And busk ye for the weapon shaw! Stand by me and we'll bang them a'! Carle, now the king's come! Come, from Newbattle's ancient spires, Bauld Lothian, with your knights and squires, And match the mettle of your sires, Carle, now the king's come! "You're welcome hame, my Montague !+ Bring in your hand the young Buccleugh ;I'm missing some that I may rue, Carle, now the king's come! "Come, Haddington, the kind and gay, "Come, premier duke,‡ and carry doun, But, Carle, now the king's come! "Come, Athole, from the hill and wood, "Come, Tweeddale, true as sword to sheath; "Come, Wemyss, who modest merit aids; Come, Roseberry, from Dalmeny shades; Breadalbane, bring your belted plaids; Carle, now the king's come! "Come, stately Niddrie, auld and true, Carle, now the king's come!" Cogie, now the king's come! * Seat of the Marquis of Lothian. + Uncle to the Duke of Buccleugh. Hamilton. § The castle. Wauchope of Niddrie, a noble-looking old man, and a fine specimen of an ancient baron. ¶ There is to be a bonfire on the top of Arthur's seat. **The Castle hill commands the finest view of the Composed on the occasion of the royal visit to Scot- Frith of Forth, and will be covered with thousands, anx land, in August, 1822. iously looking for the royal squadron. THE END. OF THEIR RECENT PUBLICATIONS. Fitz-Greene Ballerk. 7 THE COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS OF Now first collected. Illustrated with fine Steel Engravings, from paintings by American Artists. A new Edition. Octavo. Price, $2 50; cloth, gilt leaves, $3; imitation morocco, $3 50; morocco, $5. Thomas Moore. POETICAL WORKS OF. (Collected by himself) The ten volumes of the English Edition, complete in one handsome octavo volume. Illustrated with sev eral splendid Steel Engravings, and a fine Portrait of the Author. Price $4 in muslin; or extra gilt, with gilt leaves, $5; Turkey morocco, $7; or on cheaper paper, with Portrait only, price $2 50. Robert Southey, LL. D. THE COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS OF Including Oliver Newman and other Poems (now first published). Illustrated with elegant Steel Engravings, and a fine Portrait. One handsome large octavo volume. Price $3 50 in cloth; or extra gilt, with gilt leaves, $4 50; or Turkey morocco, $6 50. George Wilkins Kendall. THE WAR BETWEEN THE UNITED Illustrated. Embracing Pictorial Drawings of all the principa. The above series of Illustrations are the only authentic drawings given to the public of the Great Battle Scenes between the Mexican and United States troops. The execution of the plates are unsurpassed by any similar work. 3. A. Wainwright, D. D. THE PATHWAYS AND ABIDING Illustrated in the Journal of a Tour through the Land of Promise. Twenty Engravings on Steel. Quarto. Cloth, $4; gilt sides and edges, 85; morocco, bevelled, $7 50. 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