Then peaceful again to their home
Shall the patriot warriors come,
No more the fair cheek shall with tears be impearl'd,
But the banner of peace stand for ever unfurl'd.
NOT A DRUM WAS HEARD.
[Music by T. WILLIAMS.
Not a drum was heard, nor a funeral note,
As his corse to the ramparts we hurried;
Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot
O'er the grave where our hero we buried.
We buried him darkly at dead of night,
The turf with our bayonets turning,
By the struggling moonbeam's misty light,
And our lanterns glimly burning.
By the struggling moonbeam's, &c.
Few and short were the pray'rs we said,
And we spoke not a word of sorrow,
But we steadfastly gazed on the face of the dead,
And we bitterly thought of the morrow.
No useless coffin confined his breast,
Nor in sheet nor in shroud we bound him;
But he lay like a warrior taking his rest,
With his martial cloak around him.
But he lay like a warrior, &c.
We thought as we heap'd his narrow bed,
And smooth'd down his lonely pillow,
That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head,
And we far away on the billow.
Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone,
And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him;
But nothing he'll reck, if they let him sleep on
In the grave where a Briton has laid him.
But nothing he'll reck, &c.
But half our heavy task was done,
When the clock told the hour of retiring,
And we heard by the distant and random gun
That the foe was suddenly firing.
Slowly and sadly we laid him down,
From the field of his fame fresh and gory;
We carved not a line, we raised not a stone,
But we left him alone with his glory.
We carved not a line, &c.
[Music by Sir H. R. BISHOP.
Orynthia, my beloved, I call in vain!
Orynthia Echo hears, and calls again!
A mimic voice repeats the name around;
And with Orynthia all the rocks resound.
A hermit who dwells in these solitudes cross'd me,
As way worn and faint up the mountain I press'd;
The aged man paus'd on his staff to accost me,
And proffered his cell as the mansion of rest.
Ah! nay, courteous father, right onward I rove,—
No rest but the grave for the pilgrim of love.
"Yet tarry, my son, till the burning noon passes,
Let boughs of the lemon-tree shelter thy head;
The juice of ripe muscadel flows in my glasses,
And rushes, fresh pulled, for siesta are spread."
Ah! nay, courteous father, right onward I rove,-
No rest but the grave for the pilgrim of love.
I've been roaming, I've been roaming
Where the meadow dew is sweet,
And I'm coming, and I'm coming
With its pearls upon my feet.
I've been roaming, &c.
I've been roaming, I've been roaming
O'er the rose and lily fair,
And I'm coming, and I'm coming
With their blossoms in my hair.
I've been roaming, &c.
I've been roaming, I've been roaming
Where the honeysuckle creeps,
And I'm coming, and I'm coming
With its kisses on my lips.
I've been roaming, &c.
I've been roaming, I've been roaming
Over hill and over plain,
And I'm coming, and I'm coming
To my bower back again.
Old Cunwell, the pilot, for many a year
Had plenty of vessels in charge,
And knew of each sandbank and shoal to steer clear,
Whether sailing close haul'd or at large;
At last safely moor'd with a well-timber'd purse,
Heart and house open'd wide to his friend,
With old Poll, once a dasher, now turn'd to a nurse,
He had bought a snug berth at Gravesend.
From a kind of poop lantern, placed over the Thames,
Where he took with his messmates his prog,
Bound outward or homeward, the ships and their names
They'd spy as they guzzled their
grog.
Now cocking the spy-glass, and clearing the Nore,
Why, Jack, there they come without end;
There's the "Neptune," the "Glory," and further in
"Fame" and "Liberty," making Gravesend.
And see, where the river in branches divides,
Cut in two all the same as a fork,
How proudly the "Commerce" with "Industry" rides,
Then the "Blarney"-Oh, she's bound to Cork.
There's the homeward-bound fleet from the Downs,
only see,
So stored their top-gallant masts bend;
There's the " Silkworm," the
and the "Bee,"
And all standing on for Gravesend.
There's the "Fortitude" yonder, at danger that mocks,
The "Nimble," that swims like a tench;
The bold "Resolution," that steers clear of rocks;
The "Britannia," that laughs at the French.
Thus a magnet old Thames firmly holds in his mouth,
To which all sorts of merchandise tend;
And the trade of all nations-west, north, east, and south,
Like the needle, points still to Gravesend.
MY POOR DOG TRAY.
[THOMAS CAMPBELL.]
On the green banks of Shannon, when Sheelah was nigh,
No blithe Irish lad was so happy as I;
No harp like my own could so cheerily play,
And wherever I went was my poor dog Tray.
When at last I was forced from my Sheelah to part,
She said (while the sorrow was big at her heart),
"Oh! remember your Sheelah, when far, far away,
And be kind, my dear Pat, to our poor dog Tray."
Poor dog! he was faithful and kind, to be sure,
And he constantly loved me, although I was poor;
When the sour-looking folks sent me heartless away
I had always a friend in my poor dog Tray.
When the road was so dark, and the night was so cold,
And Pat and his dog were grown weary and old,
How snugly we slept in my old coat of grey,
And he lick'd me for kindness-my poor dog Tray.
Though my wallet was scant, I remember'd his case,
Nor refused my last crust to his pitiful face;
But he died at my feet on a cold winter day,
And I play'd a lament for my poor dog Tray.
Where now shall I go-poor, forsaken, and blind,-
Can I find one to guide me so faithful and kind?
To my sweet native village, so far, far away,
I can never return with my poor dog Tray.
J. E. CARPENTER.] Would you remember me!-take for a token A flower from the garden-a rose from the tree, And when the blossom lies scentless and broken, Wither'd and dead-'twill remind you of me. Would you remember me !-walk by the ocean, When the rich sunset falls over the sea, The weeds at your feet, cast ashore by its motion, The sport of the waves-they'll remind you of me.
Would you remember me !-let it be only
Where in the summer I wandered with thee; Then, if you feel in the world you are lonely, Check not the tear-'twill remind you of me.
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