In vain she spurns the ignoble calm, and loves To front the tempest in his gathering hour; Waked as to life, the fleet-winged wonder roves Where loudest lift the winds a voice of power!

Then go, deceitful beauty! bathe thy breast

For ever where the mountain billows foam, E'en as thou wilt.-The hour of peace and rest Is not for thee.-The ocean is thy home.

CRESCENTIUS.

L. E. LANDON.

I LOOK'D upon his brow,-no sign
Of guilt or fear was there;

He stood as proud by that death-shrine

As even o'er despair

He had a power; in his eye

There was a quenchless energy,

A spirit that could dare

The deadliest form that death could take,

And dare it for the daring's sake.

He stood, the fetters on his hand,

He raised them haughtily;

And had that grasp been on the brand,
It could not wave on high

With freer pride than it waved now.
Around he look'd with changeless brow
On many a torture nigh-

The rack, the chain, the axe, the wheel, And, worst of all, his own red steel.

I saw him once before: he rode
Upon a coal-black steed,

And tens of thousands throng'd the road,
And bade their warrior speed.

His helm, his breastplate were of gold, And graved with many a dent, that told Of many a soldier's deed;

The sun shone on his sparkling mail, And danced his snow-plume on the gale.

But now he stood, chain'd and alone,
The headsman by his side;

The plume, the helm, the charger gone;
The sword, that had defied

The mightiest, lay broken near,
And yet no sign or sound of fear
Came from that lip of pride;
And never king or conqueror's brow
Wore higher look than his did now.

He bent beneath the headsman's stroke

With an uncover'd eye;

A wild shout from the numbers broke
Who throng'd to see him die.

It was a people's loud acclaim,
The voice of anger and of shame,
A nation's funeral cry:
Rome's wail above her only son,
Her patriot-and her latest one.

SERENADE.

BARRY CORNWALL.

AWAKE!-The starry midnight hour
Hangs charmed, and pauseth in its flight:
In its own sweetness sleeps the flower,
And the Loves lie hushed in deep delight!
Awake! awake!

Look forth, my love, for Love's sweet sake!

Awake!-Soft dews will soon arise

From daisied mead, and thorny brake; Then, Sweet, uncloud those eastern eyes, And like the tender morning break! Awake! awake!

Dawn forth, my love, for Love's sweet sake!

Awake!-Within the musk-rose bower

I watch, pale flower of love, for thee: Oh, come, and show the starry hour

What wealth of love thou hidest from me! Awake! awake!

Show all thy love, for Love's sweet sake!

Awake!-Ne'er heed, though listening night
Steal music from thy silver voice :
Uncloud thy beauty rare and bright,
And bid the world and me rejoice!
Awake! awake!

She comes, at last-for Love's sweet sake!

TO THE DAISY.

WORDSWORTH.

WITH little here to do or see

Of things that in the great world be,
Sweet Daisy oft I talk to thee,
For thou art worthy,

Thou unassuming common-place
Of nature, with that homely face,
And yet with something of a grace,
Which Love makes for thee!

Oft on the dappled turf at ease
I sit, and play with similes,
Loose types of things-through all degrees
Thoughts of thy raising:

And many a fond and idle name

I give to thee, for praise or blame,
As is the humour of the game,
While I am gazing.

A little Cyclops, with one eye
Staring to threaten and defy,

That thought comes next-and instantly
The freak is over;

The shape will vanish, and behold
A silver shield with boss of gold,
That spreads itself, some fairy bold
In fight to cover!

G

I see thee glittering from afar,
And then thou art a pretty star,
Not quite so fair as many are
In heaven above thee!

Yet like a star with glittering crest,
Self-poised in air thou seem'st to rest ;-
May peace come never to his nest
Who shall reprove thee!

Sweet flower!-for by that name at last,
When all my reveries are past,

I call thee, and to that cleave fast,
Sweet silent creature!

That breathest with me in sun and air,
Do thou, as thou art wont, repair
My heart with gladness, and a share
Of thy meek nature!

YE MARINERS OF ENGLAND.

CAMPBELL.

YE Mariners of England!

That guard our native seas;

Whose flag has braved, a thousand years,

The battle, and the breeze!

Your glorious standard launch again

To match another foe!

And sweep through the deep,

While the stormy tempests blow;

While the battle rages loud and long,

And the stormy tempests blow.