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And shouted but once more aloud,
My father! must I stay ? ” While o'er him fast through sail and shroud,
The wreathing fires made way.
They wrapt the ship in splendor wild,
They caught the flag on high,
Like banners in the sky.
Then came a burst of thunder sound
oh! where was he! Ask of the winds that far around
With fragments strewed the sea,
With mast, and helm, and pennon fair,
That well had borne their part;
Was that young faithful heart ! Mrs. Hemana
TAE BENDED BOW.
THERE was heard the sound of a coming foo,
There was sent through Britain a bended bow And a voice was poured on the free winds far, As the land rose up at the sound of war :
Heard ye not the battle horn ?
red! And the reaper armed, like a freeman's son ; And the bended bow and the voice passed on.
Hunter ! leave the mountain chase !
free to-day ;
Arm thee! Britain's foes are nigh!
Chieftain ! quit the joyous feast !
song hath ceased :
Arm thee! Britain's foes must fall !
Prince! thy father's deeds are told
Where the minstrel's harp is strung !
Give our bards a tale of thee!
Mother! stay thou not thy boy!
Britain calls the strong in heart !
THE BETTER LAND.
Thou call'st its children a happy band ;
“ Not there, not there, my child ! ”
“ Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise, And the date grows ripe under sunny skies ? Or midst the green islands of glittering seas, Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze, And strange, bright birds, on starry wings, Bear the rich hues of all glorious things ? ”
“ Not there, not there, my child !”
“ Is it far away, in some region old, Where the rivers wander o'er sands of gold? Where the burning rays of the ruby shine, And the diamond lights up the secret mine,
And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand ?"
Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy!
– It is there, it is there, my child.” Mrs. Hemana
LANDING OF THE PILGRIM FATHERS.
THE breaking waves dashed high
On a stern and rock-bound coast,
Their giant branches tossed ;
And the heavy night hung dark
The hills and waters o'er,
On the wild New England shore.
Not as the conqueror comes,
They, the true-hearted, came ;
And the trumpet that sings of fame ;
Not as the flying come,
In silence and in fear;
With their hymns of lofty cheer.
Amidst the storm they sang,
And the stars heard, and the sea !
And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang
To the anthem of the free !
The ocean eagle soared
From his nest by the white wave's foam,
This was their welcome home!
There were men with hoary hair
Amidst that Pilgrim band ;
Away from their childhood's land ?
There was woman's fearless eye,
Lit by her deep love's truth;
And the fiery heart of youth.
What sought they thus, afar ?
Bright jewels of the mine?
Ay, call it holy ground,
The soil where first they trod !
BERNARDO DEL CARPIO.
THE warrior bowed his crested head, and tamed his heart