Music arose with its voluptuous swell,

Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again,
And all went merry as a marriage bell;

But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell !

Did ye not hear it ?-No; 'twas but the wind,
Or the car rattling o'er the stony street;
On with the dance! let joy be unconfined;
No sleep till morn, when youth and pleasure meet
To chase the glowing hours with flying feet.
But hark !—that heavy sound breaks in once more,
As if the clouds its echo would repeat;

And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before!

Arm! arm! it is—it is—the cannon's opening roar!

Within a windowed niche of that high hall
Sate Brunswick's fated chieftain; he did hear
That sound the first amidst the festival,
And caught its tone with death's prophetic ear;
And when they smiled because he deemed it near,
His heart more truly knew that peal too well
Which stretched his father on a bloody bier,1
And roused the vengeance blood alone could quell:
He rushed into the field, and, foremost fighting, fell.

Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro,
And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress,
And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago
Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness;
And there were sudden partings, such as press
The life from out young hearts; and choking sighs,
Which ne'er might be repeated: who could guess
If ever more should meet those mutual eyes,
Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise!

And there was mounting in hot haste; the steed,
The mustering squadron and the clattering car,
Went pouring forward with impetuous speed,
And swiftly forming in the ranks of war;
And the deep thunder, peal on peal, afar;
And, near, the beat of the alarming drum
Roused up the soldier ere the morning star;

(1) The Duke of Brunswick's father received his death-wound at the battle of Jena.

While thronged the citizens with terror dumb,

Or whispering with white lips-"The foe! They come! they come!"

And wild and high the "Camerons' gathering" rose,
The war-note of Lochiel, which Albyn's1 hills
Have heard-and heard, too, have her Saxon foes :-
How in the noon of night that pibroch2 thrills,
Savage and shrill! But, with the breath which fills
Their mountain-pipe, so fill the mountaineers
With the fierce native daring which instils
The stirring memory of a thousand years;

And Evan's, Donald's3 fame, rings in each clansman's ears.
And Ardennes4 waves above them her green leaves,
Dewy with nature's tear-drops, as they pass,
Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves,

Over the unreturning brave-alas!

Ere evening to be trodden like the grass,

Which now beneath them, but above shall grow
In its next verdure, when this fiery mass

Of living valour, rolling on the foe

And burning with high hope, shall moulder cold and low.

Last noon beheld them full of lusty life,

Last eve in beauty's circle proudly gay,

The midnight brought the signal sound of strife,
The morn, the marshalling in arms—the day,
Battle's magnificently stern array!

The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which, when rent,
The earth is covered thick with other clay,
Which her own clay shall cover, heaped and pent,
Rider, and horse, friend, foe, in one red burial blent.5

Byron.

(1) Albyn-an ancient name of the Scottish Highlands.

(2) Pibroch--the bagpipe-sometimes the music played upon it.

(3) Sir Evan Cameron and his descendant Donald, who were conspicuous in the rebellion of the year 1745.

(4) Ardennes-put here for the wood of Soignies, which was thought to have anciently formed part of the Sylva Arduenna, afterwards called the Forest of Ardennes.

(5) "Childe Harold, though he shuns to celebrate the victory of Waterloo, gives us here a most beautiful description of the evening which preceded the battle of Quatre Bras, the alarm which called out the troops, and the hurry and confusion which preceded their march. I am not sure that any verses in our language surpass, in vigour and in feeling, this most beautiful description."-Sir Walter Scott.

CHRISTMAS.

HEAP on more wood!-the wind is chill;
But let it whistle as it will,

We'll keep our Christmas merry still.
Each age has deemed the new-born year
The fittest time for festal cheer;
Even, heathen yet, the savage Dane
At Ioll more deep the mead did drain;
High on the beach his galleys drew,
And feasted all his pirate crew;
Then in his low and pine-built hall,
Where shields and axes decked the wall,
They gorged upon the half-dressed steer,
Caroused in seas of sable beer;

While round, in brutal jest, were thrown
The half-gnawed rib, and marrow-bone;
Or listened all, in grim delight,

While Scalds yelled out the joys of fight.
Then forth in frenzy would they hie,
While wildly loose their red locks fly,
And, dancing round the blazing pile,
They make such barbarous mirth the while,
As best might to the mind recall
The boisterous joys of Odin's3 hall.

And well our Christian sires of old

Loved when the year its course had rolled,
And brought blithe Christmas back again,
With all its hospitable train.

Domestic and religious rite

Gave honour to the holy night:

On Christmas-eve the bells were rung;

On Christmas-eve the mass was sung:

(1) Iol, or Jul-hence our Yule, the old word for Christmas. It is a Scandinavian word, and means time of festivity, and specially of the festivities in honour of the god Frey, or the sun.

(2) Scalds-bards, poets.

(3) Odin-the Jupiter of the North, called Woden by the Anglo-Saxons. We have traces of the name in Wednesday, Wednesbury, Wanborough, &c. See Dr. Leo's treatise "On Anglo-Saxon Names," p. 4.

That only night in all the year,
Saw the stoled priest the chalice rear.
The damsel donned her kirtle sheen ;1
The hall was dressed with holly green;
Forth to the wood did merry men go,
To gather in the mistletoe.
Then open wide the Baron's hall
To vassal, tenant, serf,2 and all;
Power laid his rod of rule aside,
And Ceremony doffed his pride.
The heir, with roses in his shoes,3
That night might village partner choose;
The lord, underogating,4 share

The vulgar game of "post and pair.”5
All hailed with uncontrolled delight,
And general voice, the happy night,
That to the cottage, as the crown,
Brought tidings of salvation down.

The fire, with well-dried logs supplied,
Went roaring up the chimney wide;
The huge hall-table's oaken face-
Scrubbed till it shone, the day to grace-
Bore then upon its massive board
No mark to part the squire and lord.
Then was brought in the lusty brawn,
By old blue-coated serving man;

Then the grim boar's head frowned on high,
Crested with bays and rosemary.

Well can the green-garbed ranger tell,

How, when, and where, the monster fell;

What dogs before his death he tore,

And all the baiting of the boar.

(1) Donned her kirtle sheen-put on her gay holiday gown. Kirtle, from the Anglo-Saxon cyrtel, is connected with gird, and denotes a flowing garment for man or woman, requiring to be restrained by a belt or girdle.

(2) Vassal-tenant—serf—A vassal is a dependent upon a superior lord, and owes service; a tenant holds land or houses of another, and owes rent; a serf is a slave, and owes himself and all he has.

(3) Roses in his shoes-The roses were decorations made of ribbon, like what are now called rosettes.

(4) Underogating-without derogating from, or lessening, his dignity

(5) Post and pair—a game at cards, common in early times.

The wassail1 round, in good brown bowls,
Garnished with ribbons, blithely trowls;2
There the huge sirloin reeked; hard by
Plum-porridge stood, and Christmas pie:
Nor failed old Scotland to produce,
At such high tide, her savoury goose.
Then came the merry masquers in,
And carols roared with blithesome din ;
If unmelodious was the song,

6

It was a hearty note, and strong.
Who lists may in their mumming3 see
Traces of ancient mystery ;4
White shirts supplied the masquerade,
And smutted cheeks the visors made;
But oh! what masquers, richly dight,
Can boast of bosoms half so light!
England was merry England, when
Old Christmas brought his sports again.
'Twas Christmas broached the mightiest ale;
'Twas Christmas told the merriest tale;
A Christmas gambol oft could cheer

The poor man's heart through half the year.

Walter Scott.

THE OMNIPRESENCE OF GOD.

THOU art, O God! the life and light
Of all this wondrous world we see;
Its glow by day, its smile by night,

Are but reflections caught from thee:
Where'er we turn thy glories shine,

And all things fair and bright are thine.

(1) Wassail-according to Webster, from the Anglo-Saxon was hæl, healthliquor a beverage formerly much used at feasts.

(2) Trowls-or trolls-moves about, goes round.

(3) Mumming-from the German mumme, a mask-masking, or performing in masks.

(4) Ancient mystery-A mystery was a sort of dramatic performance, on some religious subject, common in the middle ages.

(5) Visor-from the Latin visus, through the French visière-a mask to protect the face, forming part of the helmet: also the upper part of the same, which was perforated to see through-hence the name.

(6) Dight-from the Anglo-Saxon gediht, set in order-dressed, decked.