O'er the red moat our conquering thunders flew. HEBER. THE HOLLY TREE. O Reader! hast thou ever stood to see The eye that contemplates it well perceives Order'd by an intelligence so wise, As might confound the Atheist's sophistries. Below, a circling fence, its leaves are seen No grazing cattle through their prickly round But as they grow where nothing is to fear, I love to view these things with curious eyes, And in this wisdom of the Holly Tree, Can emblem see Wherewith perchance to make a pleasant rhyme, Thus, though abroad perchance I might appear To those who on my leisure would intrude, Gentle at home, amid my friends, I'd be Like the high leaves upon the Holly Tree. And should my youth, as youth is apt I know, All vain austerities I day by day Would wear away, Till the smooth temper of my age should be Like the high leaves upon the Holly Tree. And as, when all the summer trees are seen The Holly leaves their fadeless hues display But when the bare and wintry woods we see, So would I seem amid the young and gay That in my age as cheerful I might be SOUTHEY. HOME, SWEET HOME. Some love to range the world's wide round, For home, sweet home, is all to me! Fond hopes of wealth, vain dreams of ease, And all that fancy's self could please, Explore the desert, brave the sea, THE MOURNFUL HARP. My harp no more is twined with flowers, No string will sound to pleasure's touch; The heart that thou hast doom'd to sadness. In vain for me the spring bequeaths In vain for me the joyful hearth— The cheeks that glow, the eyes that glisten; In vain the syren voice of mirth ; I heed not,-hear not-cannot listen. Will pity to thy breast repair, When grief o'er error is repenting? And then my harp in ecstacy Will sound-'tis alway sad without thee; And bliss will come again, and I Will sing in thrilling strains about thee. FRIENDS. Friend after friend departs; Who hath not lost a friend? Beyond the flight of time— There is a world above Where parting is unknown,--- Form'd for the good alone; Thus star, by star declines, As morning high and higher shines Nor sink those stars in empty night, But hide themselves in heaven's own light. MONTGOMERY. CŒUR DE LION AT THE BIER OF HIS FATHER. While the body of Henry II. was lying in state in the Abbey-church of Fontevraud, it was visited by Richard Cœur de Lion, who, on beholding it, was struck with horror and remorse, and reproached himself bitterly for that rebellious conduct, which had been the means of bringing his father to an untimely grave. Tocrhes were blazing clear, Banners of battle o'er him hung, And warriors slept beneath, And light, as the noon's broad light was flung On the settled face of Death, Though dimm'd at times by censer's breath, Yet it fell still brightest there As if each deeply furrowed trace The marble floor was swept By many a long dark stole, As the kneeling priests, round him that slept, And solemn were the strains they pour'd With the cross above, and the crown and sword, There was heard a heavy clang, And the tombs and the hollow pavement rang, As by the torches flame A gleam of arms, up the sweeping aisle, He came with haughty look, But his proud heart through his breast-plate shook, He stood there still, with a drooping brow, For his Father lay before him low, It was Cœur de Lion gazed. And silently he strove With the workings of his breast; And his tears brake forth at last, like rain.- For his face was seen by his warrior train, He look'd upon the dead, |