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Bozzaris! with the storied brave,
She wore no funeral weeds for thee,
Nor bade the dark hearse wave its plume Like torn branch from death's leafless tree, In sorrow's pomp and pageantry,
The heartless luxury of the tomb.
But she remembers thee as one
The memory of her buried joys, And even she who gave thee birth, Will by their pilgrim-circled hearth,
Talk of thy doom without a sigh; For thou art Freedom's now, and Fame's; One of the few, the immortal names,
That were not born to die.
g:-bag, beg, keg, egg, plague, vague, rogue, brogue, guide, gear, gird, gig, ragged, craggy, anger, finger.
Battle of Waterloo.
THERE was a sound of revelry by night;
And Belgium's capital had gathered then
The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men;
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,
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; While thronged the citizens, with terror dumb, Or whispering, with white lips, "The foe! They come ! they come!"
And wild and high the "Cameron's gathering" rose!
With the fierce native daring, which instils The stirring memory of a thousand years; And Evan's, Donald's fame rings in each clansman's ears!
And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves,
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 valor, 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 Beaut's circle proudly gay;
The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when rent,
- age, cage, page, rage, wage, huge, jar, gem, june, refuge, divulge, exchange.
WIZARD AND LOCHIEL.
LOCHIEL, Lochiel, beware of the day
They rally, they bleed, for their kingdom and crown;
O weep! but thy tears cannot number the dead ;
Go preach to the coward, thou death-telling seer!
Ha! laugh'st thou, Lochiel, my vision to scorn?
From his home in the dark-rolling clouds of the north?