THE ANGEL OF DEATH. "TWAS night: over earth like a pall was The falcon eye of the stern old knight thrown Lit up with a wild unearthly light, Thickest darkness. Blent with the thun- As he lifted on high the goblet bright der's tone Brimful of the purple wine. Were the torrent's rush, and the wind's wild moan, And the wail of the ocean wave. He had scoffed at Death on the blood-red plain, "Twas then that grim Death, clad in terror 'Mid the bristling steel and the leaden The revellers shrank from his withering And the spirit is struggling, and pants THE PASSAGE OF THE RED SEA. THEY Come-they come ! The awful pillar-cloud has crossed, See, see the sabre flashing through the And Egypt, in its shadow lost, The braying of the trumpet and the The mighty waves in walls are piled, In one huge billow, ere it burst its banks The greedy waves o'erwhelm their prize, at night) They pause Pennon and scarf, and gallant plumage fair, And roar around in glee. Slowly and chill the morning spreads Its light along the lonely shore; Spread out and fluttering on the moun- No billows lift their whitening heads, tain air, Like ocean's whitening spray. Hark to the hum, The waves sleep in the cavern beds Of ages long before. The cheer, the charge, the bursting battle- See where the glittering water laves cry! The high and rugged coral coast; Rider, and steed, and chariot headlong The sea-bird screams along the waves,' Smite the crest of the horseman, the That hurls the captain and his car TO A WILD DEER. MAGNIFICENT creature! so stately and bright! O'er the grim rocks careering with prosperous motion, Like a ship by herself in full sail o'er the ocean! In the pride of thy spirit pursuing thy flight! For what hath the child of the desert to Then proudly he turned ere he sank to the dread, dell, Wafting up his own mountains that far And shook from his forehead a haughty beaming head; farewell; Or borne like a whirlwind down on the While his horns in a crescent.of radiance vale?shone, Hail! king of the wild and the beautiful! Like a flag burning bright when the vessel -hail! Hail idol divine !-whom nature hath borne O'er a hundred hill-tops since the mists of the morn; Whom the pilgrim lone wandering on mountain and moor, As the vision glides by him, may blameless adore; For the joy of the happy, the strength of the free, Are spread in a garment of glory o'er thee. Up! up to yon cliff! like a king to his throne ! is gone. Serene on thy travel-as soul in a dream-O'er the black silent forest piled lofty and Thou needest no bridge o'er the rush of the lone A throne which the eagle is glad to resign Unto footsteps so fleet and so fearless as thine. There the bright heather springs up in love of thy breast! Lo! the clouds in the depth of the sky are at rest, And the race of the wild winds is o'er on the hill! In the hush of the mountains, ye antlers, lie still Though your branches now toss in the storm of delight, stream; With thy presence the pine-grove is filled as with light; And the caves, as thou passest, one moment are bright; Through the arch of the rainbow that lies on the rock, 'Mid the mist stealing up from the cataract's shock, Thou fling'st thy bold beauty, exulting and free, O'er a pit of grim blackness, that roars like the sea. His voyage is o'er!-As if struck by a spell, Like the arms of the pine on yon shelter- He motionless stands in the hush of the less height, dell; One moment-thou bright apparition! There softly and slowly sinks down on his delay! breast, Then melt o'er the crags, like the sun from In the midst of his pastime enamoured of the day. rest. Aloft on the weather-gleam, scorning the A stream in a clear pool that endeth its earth, The wild spirit hung in majestical mirth: In dalliance with danger, he bounded in bliss O'er the fathomless gloom of each moaning abyss; race A dancing ray chained to one sunshiny place A cloud by the winds to calm solitude A hurricane dead in the silence of heaven! In the West Riding?" "Why no, sir, no; we've got our share, "Well, Farmer Numskull, how go calves at But not so many as when you were York?" there!" EPITAPH HORACE SMITH. ON THE TOMBSTONE ERECTED OVER THE MARQUIS OF ANGLESEA'S LEG And when the guns, with thunder fraught, And but indulged a harmless whim: Poured bullets thick as hail, Could only in this way be taught To give the foe leg-bail; Since he could walk with one, She saw two legs were lost on him, Who never meant to run. GEORGE CANNING., For then she thought on one regretted Oh, give me that, and let me not despair- That he should softly sleep and smartly With him she prayed, to him his Bible look: White was his better linen, and his check Was made more trim than any on the deck; And every comfort men at sea can know Was hers to buy, to make, and to bestow: For he to Greenland sailed, and much she told read; Soothed the faint heart, and held the aching head. She came with smiles the hour of pain to cheer; Apart, she sighed; alone, she shed the tear; Then, as if breaking from a cloud, she gave How he should guard against the climate's Fresh light, and gilt the prospect of the cold, Yet saw not danger; dangers he'd withstood, Nor could she trace the fever in his blood: His messmates smiled at flushings on his cheek, And he too smiled, but seldom would he speak; For now he found the danger, felt the pain, With grievous symptoms he could not ex plain; grave. One day he lighter seemed, and they forgot The care, the dread, the anguish of their lot: They spoke with cheerfulness, and seemed to think Yet said not so- "Perhaps he will not sink," |