BYEGONES.

FOR MUSIC.

“Let byegones be byegones,"—they foolishly say,

And bid me be wise and forget them; But old recollections are active to-day,

And I can do nought but regret them :
Though the present be pleasant, all joyous and gay,

And promising well for the morrow,
I love to look back on the years past away,

Embalming my byegones in sorrow.

If the morning of life has a mantle of grey

Its noon will be blyther and brighter,
If March has its storm, there is sunshine in May,

And light out of darkness is lighter :
Thus the present is pleasant, a cheerful to-day,

With a wiser, a soberer gladness,
Because it is tinged with the mellowing ray

Of a yesterday's sunset of sadness.

RULE, BRITANNIA!

A STIRRING SONG FOR PATRIOTS,

IN THE YEAR 1860.

To the tune of " Wha wouldna fight for Charlie ?”

RISE! ye gallant youth of Britain,

Gather to your country's call,
On your hearts her name is written,

Rise to help her, one and all !
Cast
away

each feud and faction, Brood not over wrong nor ill, Rouse your virtues into action,

For we love our country still, — Hail, Britannia ! hail, Britannia !

Raise that thrilling shout once more, Rule, Britannia ? Rule, Britannia,

Conqueror over sea and shore !

France is coming, full of bluster,

Hot to wipe away her stain, Therefore, brothers, here we muster

Just to give it her again!
And if foemen, blind with fury,

Dare to cross our ocean-gulf,
Wait not then for judge nor jury,--

Shoot them as you would a wolf !
For Britannia, just Britannia,

Claims our chorus as before,
Rule, Britannia! Rule, Britannia !

Conqueror over sea and shore.

With our guns

They may writhe, for we have galled them

in

every clime, They may hate us, for we called them

Serfs and subjects in old time! Boasting Gaul, we calmly scorn you

As old Æsop's bull the frogs, Come and welcome! for, we warn you,

We shall fling you to our dogs! For Britannia, our Britannia,

Thunders with a lion's roar, Rule, Britannia! Rule, Britannia

Conqueror over sea and shore.

See, uprear'd our holy standard !

Crowd around it, gallant hearts !
What? should Britain's fame be slander'd

As by fault on our parts ?
Let the rabid Frenchman threaten,

Let the mad invader come,
We will hunt them out of Britain,

Or can die for hearth and home!
For Britannia, dear Britannia

Wakes our chorus evermore,
Rule, Britannia! Rule, Britannia !

Conqueror over sea and shore.

Rise then, patriots! name endearing,

Flock from Scotland's moors and dales, From the green glad fields of Erin,

From the mountain homes of Wales, – RISE! for sister England calls you,

Rise! our commonweal to serve,
Rise! while now the

song
enthralls

you, Thrilling every vein and nerve, Hail, Britannia! hail, Britannia !

Conquer, as thou didst of yore ! Rule, Britannia! Rule, Britannia !

ver every sea and shore.

D

THE EMIGRANT SHIP.

FOR MUSIC.

FAR
away,

far

away, The emigrant ship must sail to-day :

Cruel ship,—to look so gay Bearing the exiles far away.

Sad and sore, sad and sore, Many a fond heart bleeds at the core, Cruel dread,—to meet no more,

sad and sore.

Bitter sorrow,

Many years, many years At best will they battle with perils and fears :

Cruel pilot,—for he steers The exiles

for