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DIRGE OF WALLACE.
SONG. THEY lighted a taper at the dead of night, O CHERUB Content! at thy moss-cover'd shrine, And chanted their holiest hymn;
I'd all the gay hopes of my bosom resign, But her brow and her bosom were damp with affright, I'd part with ambition thy vot'ry to be, Her eye was all sleepless and dim!
And breathe not a sigh but to friendship and thee! And the lady of Elderslie wept for her lord,
When a death-watch beat in her lonely room, But thy presence appears from my wishes to fly, When her curtain had shook of its own accord; Like the gold-color'd clouds on the verge of the sky; And the raven had flapp'd at her window-board, No lustre that hangs on the green willow-tree, To tell of her warrior's doom!
Is so sweet as the smile of thy favor to me. “Now sing you the death-song, and loudly pray
In the pulse of my heart I have nourish'd a care For the soul of my knight so dear;
That forbids me thy sweet inspiration to share, And call me a widow this wretched day,
The noon of my life slow departing I see, Since the warning of God is here!
But its years as they pass bring no tidings of thee. For night-mare rides on my strangled sleep :
The lord of my bosom is doom'd to die : O cherub Content! at thy moss-cover'd shrine, His valorous heart they have wounded deep;
I would offer my vows if Matilda were mine ; And the blood-red tears shall his country weep,
Could I call her my own, whom enraptured I see, For Wallace of Elderslie!”
I would breathe not a sigh but to friendship and thee
Yet bleeding and bound, though her Wallace wight
For his long-loved country die,
Than Wallace of Elderslie!
Ilis head unentomb'd shall with glory be balm'd,
A nobler was never embalm'd!
My mind is my kingdom, but if thou wilt deign
To sway there a queen without measure, Then come, o'er its wishes and homage to reign,
And make it an empire of pleasure.
Albeit, he tippled like a fish,
Though not the same potation ;
With nimbler mastication.
One evening late, to pigeon
About a league from Dijon ;
On fagots briskly crackling:
To Jacquez and to Jacqueline.
In pious terms besought her
Then of thoughts and emotions each mutinous crowd
That rebellid at stern reason and duty, Returning shall yield all their loyalty proud
To the halcyon dominion of Beauty.
For water and a crust they crave,
Those mouths that, even on Lent days, Scarce knew the taste of water, save
When watering for dainties. Quoth Jacquez, " That were sorry cheer
For men fatigued and dusty;
You'd go to bed but crusty."
Wine fit to feast Silenus,
They laugh'd like two hyenas.
Regaled each pardon-gauger,
And lied as for a wager-
With aëronautic martyrs ;
Had only dipt her garters.
With jaws three inch asunder, 'Twas partly out of weariness,
And partly out of wonder. Then striking up duets, the frères
Went on to sing in matches, From psalms to sentimental airs,
From these to glees and catches.
Like a baboon and tame bear,
And shown them to their chamber. The room was high, the host's was nigh:
Had wife or he suspicion
Of chinks in the partition ?
Their holy ears outreaching
Almost as their own preaching? Shame on you, friars of orders grey,
That peeping knelt, and wriggling, And when ye should have gone to pray,
Betook yourselves to giggling! But every deed will have its meed:
And hark! what information Has made the sinners, in a trice,
Look black with consternation. The farmer on a hone prepares
His knife, a long and keen one; And talks of killing both the frères,
The fat one and the lean one. To-morrow by the break of day,
He orders, too, saltpetre And pickling tubs_But, reader, stay,
Our host was no man-eater.
The priests knew not that country-folks
Gave pigs the name of friars ;
As if they trod on briers.
The hair of either craven
But that their heads were shaven. “What! pickle and smoke us limb by limb?
God curse him and his larders! St. Peter will bedevil him
If he saltpetre friare.
Idea shakes one oddly;
Beginning to be godly.
Of all our sins and cogging, We had a whip to give and take
A last kind mutual flogging. “O Dominick! thy nether end
Should bleed for expiation,
A glorious flagellation."
They bow'd like weeping willows,
Of all their peccadilloes.
A thought their fancies tickled ; 'Twere better brave the window's height
Than be at morning pickled.
Both under breath imploring
Their host and hostess snoring. The lean one 'lighted like a cat,
Then scamper'd off like Jehu, Nor stopp'd to help the man of fat,
Whose cheek was of a clay hue Who, being by nature more design'd
For resting than for jumping, Fell heavy on his parts behind,
That broaden'd with the plumping. There long beneath the window's sconce
His bruises he sat pawing,
Upon a Chinese drawing.
The pigs, you'd thought for game-sake, Came round and nosed him lovingly,
As if they'd known their namesake. Meanwhile the other flew to town,
And with short respiration Bray'd like a donkey up and down, "Ass-ass-ass-assination!"
That frantic capuchin began
To cut fantastic capers Crying, “Help! hollo! the bellows blow,
The pot is on to stew me; I am a pretty pig—but no!
They shall not barbacue me."
In truth he was hysterical,
And that wrought like a miracle.
Men left their beds, and night-capp'd heads
Popp'd out from every casement; The cats ran frighten'd on the leads ;
Dijon was all amazement. Doors bang'd, dogs bay'd, and boys hurra'd,
Throats gaped aghast in bare rows, Till soundest sleeping watchmen woke,
And even at last the mayor rose Who, charging him before police,
Demands of Dominick surly, What earthquake, fire, or breach of peace
Made all this hurly-burly? “Ass—" quoth the priest, “ ass-assins, sir,
Are (hence a league, or nigher)
And barrel up a friar."
A troop from the gens-d'armes' house
To storm the bloody farm's house. As they were cantering toward the place,
Comes Jacquez to the swine-yard, But started when a great round face
Cried, “ Rascal! hold thy whinyard." 'Twas Boniface, as mad's King Lear,
Playing antics in the piggery :
You mountain of a friar, eh?”
And blubber'd with the vapors,
Just as the horsemen halted near,
Crying, “ Murderer, stop, ohoy, oh!" Jacquez was comforting the frère
With a good glass of noyauWho beckon'd to them not to kick up
A row; but waxing mellow, Squeezed Jacquez' hand, and with a hickup
Said, “ You're a damn'd good fellow" Explaining lost but little breath
Here ended all the matter; So God save Queen Elizabeth,
And long live Henri Quatre !
Into horse-fits of laughter,
Their horses neigh'd thereafter.
Yawn'd weary, worn, and moody, So may my readers' too, perhaps, And thus I wish 'em good day
THE END OF CAMPBELL'S WORKS.
ib. The Captive Nightingale
114 The Evening Star
115 Soliloquy of a Water-Wagtail
116 The Pleasures of Imprisonment, Epistle I. ib.
118 Extract from “The Bramin"
119 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS: The Grave..
120 The Lyre
121 Remonstrance to Winter...
122 Song, “Round Love's Elysian Bowers"....... 123 Lines written under a drawing of Yardley Oak ib. Song, “When Friendship, Love, and Truth abound" ........
ib. “The Joy of Grief".
124 The Battle of Alexandria
ib. The Pillow....
125 To the Memory of Joseph Browne
127 The Thunder-Storm
ib. Ode to the Volunteers
128 The Vigil of St. Mark
129 Hannah A Field Flower
...... 131 The Snow. Drop.
ib. The Ocean ...
132 The Common Lot
133 The Harp of Sorrow
134 Pope's Willow........
ib. * A Walk in Spring A Deed of Darkness.
.......... 136 The Swiss Cowherd's Song
137 The Oak ...
ib. The Dial
ib. The Roses
138 To Agnes
ib. An Epitaph
ib. The Old Man's Song.
ib. The Glow.Worm
139 Bolehill Trees
ib. The Mole-hill
ib. The Cast-away Ship..
141 The Sequel.
142 M. S.
ib. The Peak Mountains.....
ib. Stanzas on Chatterton..........
147 The Wild Rose..
ib. On Finding the Feathers of a Linnet........ 148 Sonnet, from P. Salandri
149 from Petrarch......
ib. from Gaetana Passerini.
ib. from Benedetto dall' Uva
ib. Departed Days...
150 A Mother's Love ....
151 The Time-Piece.
ib. Stanzas to the Memory of the Rev. T. Spencer 152 Human Life...
The Visible Creation
from Giambatista Cotta.
The Crucifixion, from Crescembini. 154
126 The Climbing Boy's Soliloquies “ Thou, God, seest me," Gen. xvi. 13.. Sonnet; Christ Crucified, from Gabriele Fiamma ta Sonnet; Christ laid in the Sepulchre, from the