"I read you by your bugle horn His blast is heard at merry morn, Yet sung she, 'Brignall banks are fair, I would I were with Edmund there, 'With burnish'd brand and musketoon, So gallantly you come, I read you for a bold Dragoon That lists the tuck of drum.' But when the beetle sounds his hum, Yet mickle must the maiden dare, 'Maiden! a nameless life I lead, And when I'm with my comrades met CHORUS Yet Brignall banks are fresh and fair, SIR W. SCOTT. Battle of the Baltic OF Nelson and the North, When to battle fierce came forth All the might of Denmark's crown, And her arms along the deep proudly shone; In a bold determined hand, And the Prince of all the land Led them on.— Like leviathans afloat, Lay their bulwarks on the brine; On the lofty British line : It was ten of April morn by the chime : As they drifted on their path, There was silence deep as death; But the might of England flush'd O'er the deadly space between. 'Hearts of oak!' our captains cried, when each gun From its adamantine lips Spread a death-shade round the ships, Like the hurricane eclipse Of the sun. Again! again! again! And the havoc did not slack, Till a feeble cheer the Dane To our cheering sent us back ;-- Their shots along the deep slowly boom : Then ceased-and all is wail, As they strike the shatter'd sail; Or, in conflagration pale, Light the gloom. Out spoke the victor then As he hail'd them o'er the wave; Then Denmark bless'd our chief As death withdrew his shades from the day. O'er a wide and woeful sight, Where the fires of funeral light Died away. Now joy, old England, raise! Whilst the wine-cup shines in light; By thy wild and stormy steep, Brave hearts! to Britain's pride With the gallant good Riou; Soft sigh the winds of heaven o'er their grave! While the billow mournful rolls, And the mermaid's song condoles, Singing Glory to the souls Of the brave! T. CAMPBELL. Young Lochinvar O, YOUNG Lochinvar is come out of the West! There never was knight like the young Lochinvar. He stay❜d not for brake and he stopp'd not for stone; The bride had consented, the gallant came late ; So boldly he enter'd the Netherby Hall, Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all ;- 'I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied The bride kiss'd the goblet: the knight took it up, So stately his form, and so lovely her face, D One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, When they reach'd the hall door; and the charger stood near; So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, So light to the saddle before her he sprung! 'She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur; They'll have fleet steeds that follow,' quoth young Loch invar. There was mounting 'mong Græmes of the Netherby clan, Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran, There was racing and chasing, on Cannobie lea, The Wreck of the Hesperus IT was the schooner Hesperus, That sailed the wintry sea; And the skipper had taken his little daughter, Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax, Her cheeks like the dawn of day, And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds, The skipper he stood beside the helm, And watch'd how the veering flaw did blow The smoke now West, now South. Then up and spake an old sailòr, 'I pray thee, put into yonder port, 'Last night, the moon had a golden ring, The skipper, he blew a whiff from his pipe, And a scornful laugh laughed he. |