THE TRUE KING

INCIDENT OF THE FRENCH CAMP

WILLIAM TELL DESCRIBES HIS ESCAPE

THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE

THE CAVALIER'S ESCAPE

RICHELIEU AND FRANCE

THREE DAYS IN THE LIFE OF COLUMBUS

DESTRUCTION OF THE PHILISTINES

THE FIREMAN

A BORDER BALLAD

DANNY DEEVER.

A BALLAD OF ATHLONE; OR HOW THEY BROKE DOWN

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Blessings be with them, and eternal praise Who gave us nobler loves, and nobler caresThe poets who on earth have made us heirs Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays ! -WORDSWORTH.

Breathes there a man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
"This is my own, my native land"?
Whose heart hath ne'er within his burned
As home his footsteps he hath turned,
From wandering on a foreign strand?
If such there breathe, go, mark him weli
For him no minstrel raptures swell!
High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;
Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch concentred all in self
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,

And, doubly dying, shall go down

To the vile dust, from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.

ROCKS OF MY COUNTRY.

MRS. HEMANS.

Rocks of my country! let the cloud your crested heights array,

And rise ye, like a fortress proud, above the surge and spray!

My spirit greets you as ye stand, breasting the billow's foam:

O! thus forever guard the land, the severed Land of Home!

I have left rich blue skies behind, lighting up classic shrines,

And music in the southern wind, and sunshine on the vines.

The breathings of the myrtle-flowers have floated

o'er my way,

The pilgrim's voice, at vesper-hours, hath soothed me with its lay.

The Isles of Greece, the Hills of Spain, the purple Heavens of Rome,

Yes, all are glorious;—yet again I bless thee, Land of Home!