I staked with thee my all before,
And from thy den a beggar go!
Go where? A suicide to hell!

And leave my orphan children here,
In rags and wretchedness to dwell,
A doom their father can not bear.
Will no one pity? no one come?
Not thou; O come not, man of prayer!
Shut that dread volume in thy hand;
For me damnation 's written there-
No drunkard can in judgment stand!
Talk not of pardon there revealed;
No, not to me, it is too late;
My sentence is already sealed;

Tears never blot the book of fate;
Too late, too late these tidings come;
There is no hope! O give me rum!
I must have rum!

See how that rug those reptiles soil!
They're crawling o'er me in my bed!
I feel their clammy, snaky coil

On every limb-around my head;
With forked tongue I see them play;
I hear them hiss-tear them away!
Tear them away!

A fiend! a fiend! with many a dart,
Glares on me with his blood-shot eye,
And aims his missiles at my heart,—
O, whither, whither shall I fly!
Fly? no, it is no time for flight!

Fiend! I know thy hellish purpose well!
Avaunt, avaunt, thou hated sprite,
And hie thee to thy native hell!

He's gone! he's gone! and I am free;
He's gone, the faithless, braggart liar;
He said he'd come to summon me-
See there again, my bed's on fire!
Fire! water! help! O haste, I die!
The flames are kindling round my head!
This smoke!-I'm strangling!-can not fly!
O, snatch me from this burning bed!

There, there again! that demon's there,
Crouching to make a fresh attack;

See how his flaming eye-balls glare!

Thou fiend of fiends, what's brought thee back?
Back in thy car? for whom? for where?

He smiles, he beckons me to come;

What are those words thou 'st written there ?—
"In hell they never want for rum!"
Not want for rum? Read that again!
I feel the spell! haste, drive me down
Where rum is free, where revelers reign,
And I can wear the drunkard's crown.
Accept thy proffer, fiend? I will,

And to thy drunken banquet come;
Fill the great cauldron from thy still
With boiling, burning, fiery rum;
There will I quench this horrid thirst,
With boon companions drink and dwell,
Nor plead for rum, as here I must-
There's liberty to drink in hell!

Thus raved that maniac rum had made;
Then starting from his haunted bed,
On, on! ye demons, on! he said,

Then silent sunk-his soul had fled.
Scoffer, beware! he in that shroud,
Was once a temperate drinker, too!

Ex. CXXX.-BERNARDO DEL CARPIO.

MRS. HEMANS.

THE warrior bowed his crested head, and tamed his heart of fire,

And sued the haughty king to free his long-imprisoned sire; "I bring thee here my fortress-keys, I bring my captive train, I pledge thee faith, my liege, my lord!-Oh! break my father's chain !"

"Rise, rise! even now thy father comes, a ransomed man, this day!

Mount thy good horse; and thou and I will meet him on his way."

Then lightly rose that loyal son, and bounded on his steed, And urged, as if with lance in rest, the charger's foamy

speed.

And lo! from far, as on they pressed, there came a glittering band,

With one that 'midst them stately rode, as a leader in the land:

"Now haste, Bernardo, haste! for there, in very truth, is he, The father whom thy faithful heart hath yearned so long to

see."

His dark eye flashed, his proud breast heaved, his cheek's hue came and went;

He reached the gray-haired chieftain's side, and there, dismounting, bent;

A lowly knee to earth he bent, his father's hand he tookWhat was there in its touch that all his fiery spirit shook?

That hand was cold,-a frozen thing,-it dropped from his like lead!

*He looked up to the face above, the face was of the dead! A plume waved o'er the noble brow,-the brow was fixed and white:

He met, at last, his father's eyes,--but in them was no sight!

Up from the ground he sprang and gazed;—but who could paint that gaze?

They hushed their very hearts, that saw its horror and

amaze:

They might have chained him, as before that stony form he stood;

For the power was stricken from his arm, and from his lip the blood.

66

"Father!" at length he murmured low, and wept like childhood then:

Talk not of grief till thou hast seen the tears of warlike men! He thought on all his glorious hopes, and all his young re

nown,

He flung his falchion from his side, and in the dust sat down.

Then covering with his steel-gloved hands his darkly mourn

ful brow,

"No more, there is no more," he said, "to lift the sword for,

now ;

My king is false,―my hope betrayed! My father-Oh! the

worth,

The glory, and the loveliness, are passed away from earth!

"I thought to stand where banners waved, my sire, beside thee, yet!

I would that there our kindred blood on Spain's free soil had met!

Thou wouldst have known my spirit, then ;-for thee my fields were won;

And thou hast perished in thy chains, as though thou hadst no son !"

Then, starting from the ground once more, he seized the monarch's rein,

Amidst the pale and wildered looks of all the courtier train; And, with a fierce, o'ermastering grasp, the rearing war-horse led,

And sternly set them face to face,-the king before the dead:

"Came I not forth, upon thy pledge, my father's hand to kiss? -Be still, and gaze thou on, false king! and tell me, what is

this?

The voice, the glance, the heart I sought,-give answer, where are they?

-If thou wouldst clear thy perjured soul, send life through this cold clay!

"Into these glassy eyes put light;-be still! keep down thine ire!

Bid these white lips a blessing speak,-this earth is not my

sire:

Give me back him for whom I strove, for whom my blood was shed!

Thou canst not?—and a king!—his dust be mountains on thy head !"

He loosed the steed, his slack hand fell;-upon the silent

face

He cast one long, deep, troubled look, then turned from that

sad place:

His hope was crushed, his after fate untold in martial strain: His banner led the spears no more amidst the hills of Spain.

Ex. CXXXI.-THE VISION OF LIBERTY.

THE evening heavens were calm and bright;
No dimness rested on the glittering light,

H. WARE, JE..

That sparkled from the wilderness of worlds on high.
Those distant suns burned on with quiet ray;

The placid planets held their modest way;

And silence reigned profound o'er earth, and sea, and sky.

Oh! what an hour for lofty thought!
My spirit burned within; I caught
A holy inspiration from the hour.-
Around me man and nature slept;
Alone my solemn watch I kept,

Till morning dawned, and sleep resumed her power.

A vision passed upon my soul.
I still was gazing up to heaven,
As in the early hours of even;
I still beheld the planets roll,
And all those countless suns of light

Flame from the broad blue arch, and guide thé moonless night.

When, lo! upon the plain,

Just where it skirts the swelling main,

A massive castle, far and high,

In towering grandeur broke upon my eye.

Proud in its strength and years, the ponderous pile

Flung up its time-defying towers;

Its lofty gates seemed scornfully to smile
At vain assault of human powers,

And threats and arms deride.

Its gorgeous carvings of heraldic pride
In giant masses graced the walls above,
And dungeons yawned below.

Yet ivy there and moss their garlands wove,
Grave, silent chroniclers of time's protracted flow.

Bursting on my steadfast gaze,

See, within, a sudden blaze!

So small at first, the zephyr's slightest swell,
That scarcely stirs the pine-tree top,

Nor makes the withered leaf to drop,
The feeble fluttering of that flame would quell.