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HAME, HAME, HAME!

HAME, hame, hame! O hame I fain would be! O hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie! When the flower is i' the bud and the leaf is on the tree,

The lark shall sing me hame to my ain countrie.

Hame, hame, hame! O hame I fain would be! O hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie!

The green leaf o' loyaltie's beginning now to fa';

The bonnie white rose, it is withering an' a'; But we'll water it wi' the bluid of usurping tyrannie,

And fresh it shall blaw in my ain countrie! Hame, hame, hame! O hame I fain would be! O hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie!

O there's nocht now frae ruin my countrie

can save,

But the keys o' kind Heaven to open the grave, That a' the noble martyrs who died for loyaltie

May rise again and fight for their ain countrie. Hame, hame, hame! O hame I fain would be! O hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie!

The great now are gone wha attempted to save, The green grass is growing abune their grave;

Yet the sun through the mist seems to prom

ise to me,

"I'll shine on ye yet in your ain countrie." Hame, hame, hame! O hame 1 fain would be! O hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie!

ALLAN CUNNINGHAM.

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THE SUN RISES BRIGHT IN FRANCE.

THE sun rises bright in France,
And fair sets he;

But he has tint the blythe blink he had
In my ain countrie.

O gladness comes to many,

But sorrow comes to me,

As I look o'er the wide ocean

To my ain countrie.

THE HARP THAT ONCE THROUGH TARA'S HALLS.

THE harp that once through Tara's halls
The soul of music shed,

Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls,

As if that soul were fled.

So sleeps the pride of former days,

So glory's thrill is o'er,

And hearts that once beat high for praise, Now feel that pulse no more.

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INDIAN DEATH SONG.

377

And his low head and crest, just one sharp | Then I cast loose my buff-coat, each holster ear bent back let fall, For my voice, and the other pricked out on Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and his track; all, And one eye's black intelligence,-ever that Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his glance

ear,

O'er its white edge at me, its own master, Called my Roland his pet-name, my horse askance; without peer- · And the thick heavy spume-flakes, which aye Clapped my hands, laughed and sung, any and anon noise, bad or good, His fierce lips shook upward in galloping on. Till at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood.

By Hasselt Dirck groaned; and cried Joris, And all I remember is friends flocking round, As I sate with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground;

"Stay spur!

Your Roos galloped bravely, the fault's not

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The broad sun above laughed a pitiless laugh; THE sun sets in night, and the stars shun 'Neath our feet broke the brittle, bright stub

ble like chaff;

Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white,

And "Gallop" gasped Joris, "for Aix is in sight!"

the day;

But glory remains when their lights fade away.

Begin, you tormentors! your threats are in

vain,

For the son of Alknomook will never complain.

"How they'll greet us!"-and all in a mo- Remember the arrows he shot from his bow;

ment his roan

Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a

stone;

And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight

Of the news which alone could save Aix from

her fate,

Remember your chiefs by his hatchet laid

low!

Why so slow? do you wait till I shrink from the pain?

No! the son of Alknomook shall never complain.

With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the Remember the wood where in ambush we brim,

lay,

And with circles of red for his eye-sockets' And the scalps which we bore from your nation away.

rim.

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