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III. 2.

Lo, steel-clad War his gorgeous

standard rears!

The red-cross squadrons madly rage,'

And mow thro' infancy and age;

Then kiss the sacred dust and melt in tears.

Veiling from the eye of day,


Penance dreams her life away;

In cloister'd solitude she sits and sighs,

While from each shrine still, small responses rise.

Hear, with what heart-felt beat, the midnight bell

Swings its slow summons thro' the hollow pile!

The weak, wan votarist leaves her twilight cell,

To walk, with taper dim, the winding isle;

With choral chantings vainly to aspire,

Beyond this nether sphere, on Rapture's wing of fire.

III. 3.

Lord of each pang the nerves can feel,

Hence, with the rack and reeking wheel.

Faith lifts the soul above this little ball!

While gleams of glory open round,

And circling choirs of angels call,

Canst thou, with all thy terrors crown'd,

Hope to obscure that latent spark,

Destin'd to shine when suns are dark?

Thy triumphs cease! thro' every land,

Hark! Truth proclaims, thy triumphs cease :

Her heav'nly form, with glowing hand,

Benignly points to piety and peace.

Flush'd with youth, her looks impart

Each fine feeling as it flows;

Her voice the echo of her heart,

Pure as the mountain-snows:

Celestial transports round her play,

And softly, sweetly die away.

She smiles! and where is now the cloud

That blacken’d o'er thy baleful reign?

Grim darkness furls his leaden shroud,

Shrinking from her glance in vain.

Her touch unlocks the day-spring from above,

And lo! it visits man with beams of light and love.

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When we were ready to set out, our host mut

.tered some words in the ears of our cattle.

See a Voyage to the North of Europe in 1653.

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In the Bedas, or sacred writings of the Hindoos,

is this passage:

“ She who dies with her husband,

shall live for ever with him in heaven.”

Note g. P. 140.

The Fates of the Northern Mythology. See

MALLET'S Antiquities.

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