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A pæan from the bells !
And his merry bossom swells

With the pæan of the bells !
And he dances and he yells;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tolling of the bells,

Bells, bells, bells,
To the moaning and the groaning of the bells

Charlie Machree.


Come over, come over the river to me,
If ye are my laddie, bold Charlie Machree!

Here's Mary M'Pherson and Susy O’Linn,
Who say ye're faint-hearted, and dare not plunge in.
But the dark rolling river, though deep as the sea,
I know cannot scare you, nor keep you from me;
For stout is your back and strong is your arm,
And the heart in your bosom is faithful and warm.
Come over, come over the river to me,
If ye are my laddie, bold Charlie Machree.
I see him, I see him. He's plunged in the tide;
His strong arms are dashing the big waves aside.
0! the dark rolling water shoots swift as the sea,
But blithe is the glance of his bonnie blue e'e.

His cheeks are like roses, twa buds on a bough; Who says ye're faint hearted, me brave laddie, now!

Ho, ho, foaming river, ye may roar as ye go,
But ye canna bear Charlie to the dark loch below!

Come over, come over the river to me,
My true-hearted laddie, my Charlie Machree!

He's sinking, he's sinking-0, what shall I do!
Strike out, Charlie, boldly, ten strokes, and ye're thro'.
He's sinking, O heaven! Ne'er fear, man, ne'er fear;
I've a kiss for ye, Charlie, as soon as ye're here!
He rises, I see him—five strokes, Charlie, mair,—
He's shaking the wet from his bonny brown hair;

He conquers the current, he gains on the sea—
Ho, where is the swimmer like Charlie Machree!
Come over the river, but once come to me,
And I'll love ye forever, dear Charlie Machree.

He's sinking, he's gone-O God, it is I,

It is I, who have killed him—help, help!—he must die.

Help, help!—ah, he rises-strike out and ye're free,
Ho, bravely done, Charlie; once more now, for me!

Now cling to the rock, now give me your hand—
Ye're safe, dearest Charlie, ye're safe on the land!

Come rest on my bosom, if there ye can sleep;
I canna speak to ye; I only can weep.

Ye've crossed the wild river, ye've risked all for me,
And I'll part frae ye never, dear Charlie Machree!

Count Candespina's Standard.


"The King of Aragon now entered Castile, by way of Soria and Osma, with a powerful army; and, having been met by the queen's forces, both parties encamped near Sepulveda, and prepared to give battle.

"This engagement, called, from the field where it took place, de la Espina, is one of the most famous of that age. The dastardly Count of Lara fled at the first shock, and joined the queen at Burgos, where she was anxiously awaiting the issue; but the brave Count of Candespina (Gomez Gonzalez) stood his ground to the last, and died on the field of battle. His standardbearer, a gentleman of the house of Olea, after having his horse killed under him, and both hands cut off by saber strokes, fell beside his master, still clasping the standard in his arms, and repeating his war-cry of Olea!'"Annals of the Queens of Spain.

1. Scarce were the splintered lances dropped,

Scarce were the swords drawn out,
Ere recreant Lara, sick with fear,

Had wheeled his steed about; 2. His courser reared and plunged and neighed,

Loathing the fight to yield;
But the coward spurred him to the bone,

And drove him from the field. 3. Gonzalez in his stirrups rose:

“ Turn, turn, thou traitor knight! Thou bold tongue in a lady's bower,

Thou dastard in a fight!”
4. But vainly valiant Gomez cried

Across the waning fray:
Pale Lara and his craven band

To Burgos scoured away.
5. “Now, by the God above me, sirs,

Better we all were dead,
Than a single knight among ye all

Should ride where Lara led!

6. “Yet ye who fear to follow me,


traitor turn and fly;
For I lead ye not to win a field:

I lead ye forth to die.
7. Olea, plant my standard here--

Here on this little mound;
Here raise the war-cry of thy house,

Make this our rallying ground.
8. “Forget not, as thou hop'st for grace,

The last care I shall have
Will be to hear thy battle-cry,

And see that standard wave."

9. Down on the ranks of Aragon

The bold Gonzalez drove,
And Olea raised his battle-cry,

And waved the flag above.

10. Slowly Gonzalez's little band

Gave ground before the foe,
But not an inch of the field was won

Without a deadly blow;
11. And not an inch of the field was won

That did not draw a tear
From the widowed wives of Aragon,

That fatal news to hear.
12. Backward and backward Gomez fought,

And high o'er the clashing steel,
Plainer and plainer rose the cry,

"Olea for Castile!"

13. Backward fought Gomez, step by step,

Till the cry was close at hand,
Till his dauntless standard shadowed him

And there he made his stand.
14. Mace, sword, and ax rang on his mail,

Yet he moved not where he stood,
Though each gaping joint of armor ran

A stream of purple blood.
15. As pierced with countless wounds he fell,

The standard caught his eye,
And he smiled, like an infant hushed asleep,

To hear the battle-cry.
16. Now one by one the wearied knights

Have fallen, or basely flown;
And on the mound where his post was fixed

Olea stood alone.
17. “Yield up thy banner, gallant knight!

Thy lord lies on the plain;
Thy duty has been nobly done ;

I would not see thee slain."

18. “Spare pity, King of Aragon;

I would not hear thee lie:
My lord is looking down from heaven

To see his standard fly.”

" This flag

19. “ Yield, madman, yield! thy horse is down,

Thou hast nor lance nor shield;
Fly!--I will grant thee time.”

Can neither fly nor yield !”
20. They girt the standard round about,

A wall of flashing steel;
But still they heard the battle-cry,

• Olea for Castile!"

21. And there, against all Aragon,

Full-armed with lance and brand,
Olea fought until the sword

Snapped in his sturdy hand.
22. Among the foe, with that high scorn

Which laughs at earthly fears,
He hurled the broken hilt, and drew

His dagger on the spears.
23. They hewed the hauberk from his breast,

The helmet from his head;
They hewed the hands from off his limbs,

From every vein he bled.

24. Clasping the standard to his heart,

He raised one dying peal,
That rang as if a trumpet blew-

• Olea for Castile!"

Bernardo Del Carpio.


1. The warrior bowed his crested head, and tamed his heart

of fire,

And sued the haughty king to free his long-imprisoned

sire; “I bring thee here my fortress-keys, I bring my captive

train; I pledge thee faith, my liege, my lord ! -Obreak my

father's chain!"

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