FALL OF D'ASSAS.

Song should bring back scenes and hours
That we loved-ah, long ago!

Song from baser thoughts should win us;
Song should charm us out of woe;
Song should stir the heart within us,
Like a patriot's friendly blow.

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Pains and pleasures, all man doeth,
War and peace, and right and wrong,-
All things that the soul subdueth
Should be vanquished, too, by song.

Song should spur the mind to duty;
Nerve the weak, and stir the strong;
Every deed of truth and beauty,
Should be crowned by starry song !

Barry Cornwall.

FALL OF D'ASSAS.

Alone through the gloomy forest-shades
A soldier went by night;

No moonbeam pierced the dusky glades,
No star shed guiding light.

Yet on his vigil's midnight round,
The youth all cheerly pass'di;

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FALL OF D'ASSAS

Uncheck'd by ought of boding sound
That mutter'd in the blast.

Where were his thoughts that gloomy hour?
In his far home perchance;
His father's hall, his mother's bower,
'Midst the gay vines of France.

Wandering from battles lost and won,
To hear and bless again
The rolling of the wide Garonne,
Or murmur of the Seine.

-Hush! hark!-did stealing steps go by,
Came not faint whispers near?
No! the wild wind hath many a sigh,
Amidst the foliage sere.

Hark, yet again!—and from his hand,
What grasp hath wrenched the blade?
-Oh! single 'midst a hostile band,
Young soldier! thou'rt betray'd!

"Silence!" in under-tones they cry-
No whisper-not a breath!

The sound that warns thy comrades nigh
Shall sentence thee to death."

-Still, at the bayonet's point he stood,
And strong to meet the blow;

A VISION OF PEACE.

And shouted, 'midst his rushing blood,
"Arm, arm, Auvergne! the foe!"

The stir, the tramp, the bugle-call—
He heard their tumults grow;
And sent his dying voice through all-
Auvergne, Auvergne! the foe!

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Mrs. Hemans.

A VISION OF PEACE.

Methought I heard a solemn voice proclaim, The voice as of an angel clear and strong,"These shedders of men's blood, for ever

more

Their glory hath departed :--God hath said, Even God, the Lord Omnipotent, hath said, There shall be no more war!"

Oh blessed dream!
I look through the long vista of the years-
I see the forms of the meek men of peace,
The men with thoughtful eyes, and broad
calm brows,

That in their patient lowliness of heart
Have been uplifted to the seats of power,

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A VISION OF PEACE.

And from that eminence have scatter'd down
New light and wider blessings on mankind.
I see them wear the crowns of the world's
love,

Its earnest homage, its enduring faith-
Wear them, not darkly in sepulchral halls,
But in the open sunshine, 'neath the smile
Of the sweet heaven. I look abroad and

scan

The rich plains of the populous earth; its vales,

Its mighty cities; o'er the seas I look,

Lit up with white sails of the merchant ships,

And in the length and breadth of the fair world,

I see no lingering token of the reign
Of the destroyer, War. But to my ear
Instead, the burden of a solemn hymn
Steals, floating upward from the souls of

men,

Upward and ouward still, from star to star, Through all the spaces of the universe, "There shall be no more war!"-Oh! bles

sed dream!

Westwood.

Oh Thou who once on earth, beneath the weight

Of our mortality did'st live and move;
The incarnation of profoundest love;

Who on the Cross that love did'st consum

mate,

Whose deep and ample fulness could

einbrace

The poorest, meanest, of our fallen race, How shall we e'er that boundless debt repay? By long loud prayers in gorgeous temples said?

By rich oblations on thine altars laid? Ah no! not thus thou didst appoint the way: When thou wast bowed our human woe

beneath,

Then as a legacy thou didst bequeath Earths sorrowing children to our ministry; And as we do to them we do to thee.

Anne C. Lynch.

CŒUR DE LION.

AT THE BIER OF HIS FATHER.

Torches were blazing clear, hymns pealing

deep and slow,