Page images
PDF
EPUB

OR

THE SEARCH AFTER HAPPINESS ;

Physicians soon arrived, sage, ware, and tried,

As e'er scrawld jargon in a darken'd room ;

With heedful glance the Sultaun's tongue they eyed, THE QUEST OF SULTAUN SOLIMAUN. Peep'd in his bath, and God knows where beside, WRITTEN IN 1817.

And then in solemn accents spoke their doom,

« His majesty is very far from well.» 0, FOR a glance of that gay Muse's eye,

Then each to work with his specific fell: That lighten'd on Bandello's laughing tale,

The Hakim Ibrahim instanter brought And iwinkled with a lustre shrewd and sly,

His unguent Mahazzim al Zerdukkaut, When Giam Battista bade her vision hail!!

While Roompot, a practitioner more wily, Yet fear not, ladies, the naive detail

Relied on his Munaskif al fillfily. Given by the natives of that land canorous;

More and yet more in deep array appear, Italian license loves to leap the pale,

And some the front assail and some the rear: We Britons have the fear of shame before us,

Their remedies to reinforce and vary, And, if not wise in mirth, at least must be decorous.

Came surgeon eke, and eke apothecary;

Till the tired monarch, though of words grown chary, In the far eastern clime, no great while since,

Yet dropt, to recompense their fruitless labour, Lived Sullaun Solimaun, a mighty prince,

Some hint about a bowstring or a sabre.
Whose eyes, as oft as they perform'd their round,

There lack d, I promise you, no longer speeches,
Beheld all others fix'd upon the ground;
Whose ears received the same unvaried phrase,

To rid the palace of those learned leeches. & Sultaun! thy vassal hears, and he obeys!»—

Then was the council call'd— by their advice, All have their tastes—this may the fancy strike

(They deem'd the matter ticklish all, and nice, Of such grate folks as pomp and grandeur like;

And sought to shift it off from their own shoulders), For me, I love the honest heart and warm

Tatars and couriers in all speed were sent, Of monarch who can amble round his farm,

To call a sort of eastern parliament Or, when the toil of state no more annoys,

Of feudatory chieftains and freeholdersla chimney-corner seek domestic joys

Such have the Persians at this very day,
I love a prince will bid the bottle pass,
Exchanging with his subjects glance and glass;

My gallant Malcolm calls them couroultai;* la fitting time, can, gayest of the gay,

I'm not prepared to show in this slight song

That to Serendib the same forms belong,—
Keep up the jest and mingle in the lay-
Such monarchs best our free-born humours suit,

Een let the learn'd go search, and tell me if I'm wrong.
But despots must be stately, stern, and mute. The Omrahs, each with hand on scymitar,
This Solimaun, Serendib had in sway-

Gave, like Sempronius, still their voice for war

« The sabre of the Sultaun in its sheath And where's Serendib? may some critic say— Too long has slepi, nor ownd the work of death ; Good lack, mine honest friend, consult the chart,

Let the Tambourgi bid his signal rattle, Scare not my Pegasus before I start!

| Bang the loud gong, and raise the shout of battle! If Rennell bas it not, you 'll find, mayhap, The isle laid down in Captain Sindbad's map,–

This dreary cloud that dims our sovereign's day

Shall from his kindled bosom flit away, Famed mariner! whose merciless narrations

When the bold Lootic wheels his courser round, Drove every friend and kipsman out of patience,

And the arm'd elephant shall shake the ground. Till, fain to find a guest who thought them shorter,

Each noble panis to own the glorious summonsHe deigo'd to tell them over to a porter

And for the charges-Lo! your faithful Commons !» The last edition see by Long. and Co.,

The Riots who attended in their places Rees, Hurst, and Orme, our fathers in the Row.

(Serendib-language calls a farmer Riot) Serendib found, deem not my tale a fiction

Look'd ruefully in one another's faces, This Sultaun, whether lacking contradiction

From this oration auguring much disquiet, (A sort of stimulant which hath its uses,

Double assessment, forage, and free quarters : To raise the spirits and reform the juices,

Aud fearing these as China-men the Tartars, Sovereign specific for all sort of cures

Or’as the whiskerd vermnia fear the mousers,
In my wife's practice, and perhaps in yours),

Each fumbled in the pocket of his trowsers.
The Sultaun lacking this same wholesome bitter,
Or cordial smooth, for prince's palate fitter-

And next came forth the reverend Convocation,
Or if some Mollah had lay-rid his dreams

Bald heads, white beards, and many a turban green, With Degial, Ginnistan, and such wild themes

Imaum and Mollah there of every station, Delonging to the Mollah's subtle craft,

Santon, Fakir, and Calendar were seen. I wot not-but the Sultaan never laugh'd,

Their votes were various—some advised a Mosque Scarce ate or drank, and took a melancholy

With filting revenues should be erected, That scorn'd all remedy, profave or boly;

With seemly gardens and with gay Kiosque, In his long list of melancholics, mad,

To recreate a band of priests selected; Or mazed, or dumb, hath Burton none so bad,

For tbese hard words see d'Herbelot, or the learned editor of

ibe Recipes of Avicenna. "The hint of the following tale is taken from La Camiscia Ma- See Sir Joro Malcolm's admirable History of Persia. gia, 4 novel of Gian Battista Casti.

; Xobility.

[ocr errors][ocr errors]

Others opined that through the realms a dole

Try we the Giaours, these men of coat and cap, I Be made to holy men, whose prayers might profit Incline to think some of them must be happy; The Sultaun's weal in body, and in soul ;

At least they have as fair a cause as any can,
But their long-headed chief, the Sheik Ul-Sofit, | They drink good wine, and keep no Ramazan.
More closely touch'd the point:—« Thy studious mood,» Then northward, ho!» The vessel cuts the sea,
Quoth he, « () prince! hath thicken'd all thy blood, And fair Italia lies upon her lce.
And dall'd thy braio with labour beyond measure;

But fair Italia, she who once unfurld
Wherefore relax a space and take thy pleasure, Her cagle banners o'er a conquer'd world,
And toy with beauty or tell o'er thy treasure ;

Long from her throne of domination tumbled, From all the cares of state, my liege, enlarge thee, Lay, by her quondam vassals, sorely humbled; And leave the burthen to thy faithful clergy.»

The Pope himself look'd pensive, pale, and lean,

And was not half the man he once had been. These counsels sage availed not a whit,

« While these the priest and those the noble fleeces, And so the patient (as is not uncommon

Our poor old boot, w' they said, « is torn to pieces. Where grave physicians lose their time and wit) Its tops: the vengeful claws of Austria feel, Resolved to take advice of an old woman;

And the Great Devil is rending toe and lieel.3
His mother she, a dame who once was beauteous, If happiness you seek, 10 tell you truly,
And still was call'd so by each subject duteous. We think she dwells with one Giovanni Bulli;
Now, whether Fatima was witch in earnest,

A tramontane, a heretic,- the buck,
Or only made believe, I cannot say-

Poffaredio! still has all the luck; But she profess'd to cure disease the sternest,

By land or occan never strikes his flagBy dint of magic amulet or lay;

And then-a perfect walking money-bag.” And, when all other skill in vain was shown,

Off set our prince to seek Joho Bull's abode, She deem'd it fitting time to use her own.

But first took France—it lay upon the road.

« Sympathia magica hath wonders done,»

Monsieur Baboon, after much late commotion, (Thus did old Fatima bespeak her son),

Was agitated like a settling ocean, « It works upon the fibres and the pores,

Quite out of sorts, and could not tell what aild him, And thus, insensibly, our health restores,

Only the glory of his house had fail'd him; And it must help us here. Thou must endure

Besides, some tumours on his noddle biding, The ill, my son, or travel for the cure,

Gave indication of a recent hiding.
Scarch land and sea, and get, where'er you can, Our prince, though Sultaups of such things are heel
The inmost vesture of a happy man,

less,
I mean his surrt, my son, which, taken warm Thought it a thing indelicate and needless
And fresh from off his back, shall chase your harm, To ask, if at that moment he was happy,
Bid every current of your veins rejoice,

And Monsieur, seeing that he was comme il faut, a
And your dull heart leap light as shepherd-boy's.» Loud voice muster'd up, for « Vive le Roi!»
Such was the counsel from his mother came.

Then whisper'd, « Ave you any news of Xappy! I know not if she had some under-game,

The Sultaun answer'd him with a cross question, As doctors have, who bid their patients roam

« Pray, can you tell me aught of one Jolin Ball, An-l live abroad, when sure to die at home;

That dwells somewhere beyond your herring-pool Or if she thought, that, somehow or another,

The query seemd of difficult digestion, Queen Regent sounded better than Queen Mother; The party shrugg'd, and grion'd, and took his snuff, But, says the Chronicle (who will go look it ?)

And found his whole good breeding scarce enough. That such was ber advice-the Sultaun took it.

Twitching his visage into as many puckers
All are on board—the Suitaun and his train,

As damsels wont to put into their tuckers
In gilded galley prompt to plough the main : (Ere liberal Fashion damn'd both lace and lawn,
The old Rais: was the first who question'd, « Whi- And bade the veil of modesty be drawn),
ther?»

Replied the Frenchman, after a brief pause, They paused —« Arabia,» thought the pensive prince, « Jean Rool!-I vas not know him-yes, I vas« Was call'd The Happy many ages since

I vas remember dat von year or two, For Mokha, Rais.»-- And they came safely thither. I saw him at von place caild VaterlooBut not in Araby with all her balm,

Ma foi! il s'est très-joliment battu, Nor where Judæa weeps beneath her palm,

Dat

for Englishman,-m'entendez-vous ? Not in rich Egypt, not in Nubian waste,

But den he had wit him von dama son-gun, Could there the step of Happiness be traced.

Rogue I no like-dey call him Vellington
One Copt alone profess'd to have seen her smile, Monsieur's politeness could not hide his fret,
When Bruce his goblet fill'd at infaat Nile;

So Solimaun took leave and cross'd tlie streigbi.
She blessed the dauntless traveller as he quaffd,
But vanish'd from him with the ended draught.

The well-known resemblance of Italy in the map.

• Florence, Venice, etc. Enough of turbans,» said the weary king, « These dolimans of ours are not the thing;

* The Calabrias, infested by bands of assassins. One of the

leaders was called Fra Diavolo, i.e. Brother Devil. Master of the vessel

* Or drubbing, so called in the Slang dictionary.

[ocr errors]

John Ball was in his very worst of moods,
Raving of sterile farms and unsold goods;
His sugar-loaves and bales about he threw,
And on his counter beat the devil's tattoo.
His wars were ended, and the victory won,
But then 't was reckoning-day with honest John,
And authors vouch 't was still this worthy's way,
* Never to grumble till he came to pay;
And then he always thinks, his temper's such,
The work too little, and the pay too much. »t
Yet, grumbler as he is, so kind and hearty,

That when his mortal foe was on the floor,

And past the power to harm his quiet more, Poor Joha had well nigh wept for Bonaparte! Such was the wight whorn Solimaun salam'd, « And who are you,» John answer'd, « and be d—d ?»

She bade him «sit into the fire,» and took
Her dram, her cake, her kebbock from the nook ;
Ask'd him «about the news from castern parts;
And of her absent bairns, puir Highland hearts !
If peace brought down the price of tea and pepper,
And if the nitmugs were grown ony cheaper ?--
Were there nae speerings of our Mungo Park-
Ye 'll be the gentleman that wants the sark?
If ye wad buy a web o' auld wife's spinning,
I'll warrant ye it's a weel-wearing linen.»

Then up got Peg, and round the house 'gan scuttle,

In search of goods her customer to nail, Until the Sultaun strain'd his princely throttle,

And hollow'd, — « Ma'am, that is not what I ail. Pray, are you happy, ma'am, in this soug glen ?»

Happy !» said Peg; « What for d'ye want to ken! Besides, just think upon this by-gane year,

Grain wadna pay the yoking of the pleugh.» « What say you to the present?»—« Meal's sae dear,

To mak their brose my bairns have scarce aneugh.» « The devil take the shirt,» said Solimaun, «I think my quest will end as it began. Farewell, ma'am; nay, no ceremony, I beg-» « Ye 'll no be for the linen then ?» said Peg.

• A stranger, come to see the happiest man, So, seignior, all avouch,-in Frangistan.»— & Happy! my tenants breaking on my hand ? Cnstockd my pastures, and untilld my land; Sugar and rum a drug, and mice and moths The sole consumers of my good broad-clothsHappy! why, cursed war and racking tax Have left us scarcely raiment to our backs.» « In that case, Seignior, I may take my leave; I came to ask a favour-but I grieve--> • Favour?» said John, and eyed the Sultaun hard, ali's my belief you came to break the yard ! But, stay, you look like some poor foreign sinner,Take that, to buy yourself a shirt and dinner.»With that he chuck'd a guinea at his head; But, with due dignity, the Sultaun said, « Permit me, sir, your bounty to decline; A shirt indeed I seek, but none of thine. Seigoior, I kiss your hands, so fare

you

well.» < Kiss and be d-d,» quoth John, « and go to hell ! »

Now, for the land of verdant Erin,
The Sultaun's royal bark is steering,
The emerald Ísle where honest Paddy dwells,
The cousin of John Bull, as story tells.
For a long space had John, with words of thunder,
Hard looks, and harder knocks, kept Paddy under,
Till the poor lad, like boy that 's flogg'd unduly, .
Had gotten somewhat restive and unruly.
Hard was his lot and lodging, you 'll allow,
A wigwam that would hardly serve a sow;
His landlord, and of middlemen two brace,
Had screw'd his rent up to the starving place;
His garment was a top-coat, and an old one,
His meal was a potatoe, and a cold one ;
But still for fun or frolic, and all that,
In the round world was not the match of Pat.

Next door to John there dwelt his sister Peg,
Once a wild lass as ever shook a leg,
When the blithe bagpipe blew-but soberer now,
She doucely span her flax and milk'd her cow.
And whereas erst she was a needy slattern,
Nor now of wealth or cleanliness a pattern,
Yet once a-month her house was partly swept,
And once a-week a plenteous board she kept.
And whereas eke the vixen used her claws,

And teeth, of yore, on slender provocation,
She now was grown amenable to laws,

A quiet soul as any in the nation ; The sole remembrance of her warlike joys Was in old songs she sang to please her boys. John Bull, whom, in their years of early strife, She wont to lead a cat-and-doggish life, Now found the woman, as he said, a neighbour, Who look'd to the main chance, declined no labour, Loved a long grace, and spoke a northern jargon, And was d-d close in making of a bargain.

The Sultaun saw him on a holiday,
Which is with Paddy still a jolly day:
When mass is ended, and lis load of sins
Confess'd, and Mother Church hath from her bions
Dealt forth a bonus.of imputed merit,
Then is Pat's time for fancy, whim, and spirit!
To jest, to sing, to caper fair and free,
And dance as light as leaf upon the tree.
« By Mahomet,» said Sultaun Solimaun,
« That ragged fellow is our very man !
Rush in and seize him-do not do him hurt,
But, will he nill he, let me have his shirt.»

The Sultaun enter'd, and he made his leg,
And with decorum curtsied sister Peg;
(She loved a book, and knew a thing or two,
And guess'd at once with whom she had to do.)

See the True-Born Englishman, by Daniel de Poe.

Shilela their plan was well nigh after baulking
(Much less provocation will set it a-walking),
But the odds that foild Ilercules foil'd Paddy Whack;
They seized, and they floor'd, and they stripp'd him-

Alack!
Up-bubboo! Paddy had nof--a shirt to bis back!!!
And the king, disappointed, with sorrow and shame,
Went back to Serendib as sad as he came.

* Europe.

1

As wigwam wild, that shrouds the native frore
THE POACHER.

On the bleak coast of frost-barr'd Labrador.'
A FRAGMENT.

Approach, and through the unlatticed window peep,
Welcome, grave stranger, to our green retreats, Nay, shrink not back, the inmate is asleep;
Where health with exercise and freedom meets ! Sunk mid yon sordid blankets, till the sun
Thrice welcome, sage, whose philoscphic plan Stoop to the west, the plunderer's toils are done.
By Nature's limits metes the rights of man;

Loaded and primed, and prompt from desperate hand, Generous as he, who now for freedom bawls,

Rifle and fowling-piece beside him stand, Now gives full value for true Indian shawls;

While round the hut are in disorder laid O'er court, o'er custom-house, his shoe who flings, The tools and booty of his lawless trade; Now bilks excisemen, and now bullies kings.

For force or fraud, resistance or escape, Like his, I ween, thy comprehensive mind

The crow, the saw, the bludgeon, and the crape. Holds laws as mouse-traps baited for mankind; His pilfer'd powder in yon nook he hoards, Thine eye, applausive, each sly vermin sees,

And the filch'd lead the church's roof affordsThat baulks the spare, yet battens on the cheese ; (Hence shall the rector's congregation fret, Thine ear has heard, with scorn instead of awe, That while his sermon 's dry, bis walls are wet.) Our buckskin'd justices expound the law,

The fish-spear barb'd, the sweeping net are there, Wire-draw the acts that fix for wires the pain, Doe-hides, and pheasant plumes, and skios of hare, And for the netted partridge noose the swain ; Cordage for toils, and wiring for the snare. And thy vindicrivcarm would faia have broke Barter'd for game from chase or warren won, The last light fetter of the feudal yoke,

Yon cask holds moonlight," run wheo moon was done : To give the denizens of wood and wild,

And lale-snatch'd spoils lie stow'd in batch apart, Nature's free race, to each her frec-born child.

To wait the associate higgler's evening cart.
Hence hast thou mark'd, with grief, fair London's race
Mock'd with the boon of ove poor Easter chace,

Look on his pallet foul, and mark his rest :
And long‘d to send them forth as free as when

What scenes perturb'd are acting in his breast ! Pour d o'er Chantilly the Parisian train,

His sable brow is wet and wrung with pain, When musket, pistol, blunderbuss combined,

And his dilated nostril toils in vain, And scarce the field-pieces were left behind!

For short and scant the breath each effort draws, A squadron's charge each leveret's heart dismay'd,

And 'twixt each effort Nature claims a pause. On every covey fired a bold brigade:

Beyond the loose and sable neckcloth stretch'd, La Douce Humanité approved the sport,

His sinewy throat seems by convulsion twitch, For great the alarm indeed, yet small the hurt; While the tongue falters, as to utterance loth, Shouts patriotic solemnized the day,

Sounds of dire import-watch-word, threat, and at Avd Seine re-echo'd Vive la Liberté!

Though, stupified by toil and druggʻd with gin,
But mad Citoyen, meek Monsieur again,

The body sleep, the restless guest within
With some few added links resumes bis chain; Now plies on wood and wold his lawless trade,
Then since such scenes to France no more are known, Now in the fangs of justice wakes dismay'd. -
Come, view with me a hero of thine own!
One, whose free actions vindicate the cause

« Was that wild start of terror and despair, Of sylvan liberty o'er feudal laws.

Those bursting eye-balls, and that wilder'd air,

Signs of compunction for a murder'd hare ? Seek we yon glades, where the proud oak o'ertops

Do the locks bristle and the eye-brows arch,
Wide-waving seas of birch and hazel copse,

For grouse or partridge massacred in March !
Leaving between deserted isles of land,
Where stunted heath is patch'd with ruddy sand;

No, scoffer, no! Attend, and mark with awe,
And lonely on the waste the yew is seen,

There is no wicket in the gate of law! Or stracgling hollies spread a brighter green.

He, that would c'er so lightly set ajar Here, little worn, and winding dark and steep,

That awful portal must undo each bar; Our scarce-mark'd path descends yon dingle deep :

Tempting occasion, labit, passion, pride, Follow-but heedful, cautious of a trip.

Will join to storm the breach, and force the barrier wide. In earthly mire philosophy may slip, Step slow and wary o'er that swampy stream,

That ruffian, wliom true men avoid and dread, Till, guided by the charcoal's smothering steam,

Whom bruisers, poachers, smugglers, call Black Vel We reach the frail yet barricaded door

Was Edward Mansell ouce; - the lightest heart,
Of hovel form’d for poorest of the poor;

That ever play'd on holiday his part!
No hearth the fire, no vent the smoke receives, The leader he in every Christmas game,
The walls are wattles, and the covering leaves ; The harvest feast grew blither when he came,
For, if such hut, our forest statutes say,
Rise in the progress of one night and day

Sach is the law in the New Forest, Hampshire, tesdias par (Though placed where still the Conqueror's hests o'er- to increase the varions settlements of thieves, smugglers, and

stealers, who infest it. In the forest courts the presidia ? awe,

wears as a badge of office an antique stirrup, said to bser *** And his son's stirrup shines the badge of law),

that of William Rufus. See Nr William Rose's spirited posur The builder claims the unenviable boon,

titled - The Red King.. To tenant dwelling, framed as slight and soon

• A capt name for smuggled spirits.

[ocr errors]

3

1

And liveliest on the chords the bow did glance,
When Edward named the tune and led the dance.
Kind was his heart, his passions quick and strong,
Hearty his laugh, and jovial was bis song;
And if be loved a gun, his father swore,
«'T was but a trick of youth would soon be o'er;
Himself had done the same some thirty years before.»

But he, whose humours spurn law's awful yoke, Must herd with those by whom law's bonds are broke. The common drcad of justice soon allies The clown, who robs the warren or excise, With sterner felons train'd to act more dread, Een with the wretch by whom his fellow bled. Then, as in plagues the foul contagions pass, Leavening and festering the corrupted mass, Guilt leagues with guilt, while mutual motives draw, Their hope impunity, their fear the law; Their foes, their friends, their rendezvous the same, Till the revenue baulk d, or pilfer'd game, Flesh the young culprit, and example leads To darker villany and direr deeds.

'T is at such a lide and hour,
Wizard, witch, and fiend have power,
And ghastly forms through mist and shower,

Gleam on the gifted ken;
And then the affrighted prophet's ear
Drinks whispers strange of fate and fear,
Presaging death and ruin near

Among the sons of men :-
Apart from Albyn's war-array,
"T was then gray Allan sleepless lay;
Gray Allan, who, for many a day,

Had follow'd stout and stern,
Where through battle's rout and reel,
Storm of shot and hedge of steel,
Led the grandson of Lochiel,

Valiant Fassiefern.
Through steel and shot he leads no more,
Low-laid 'mid friends' and foemen's gore-
But long his native lake's wild shore,
And Sunart rough, and high Ardgower,

And Morven lony shall tell,
And proud Ben Nevis hear with awe,
How, upon bloody Quatre-Bras,
Brave Cameron heard the wild hurra

Of conquest as he fell.

Wild howl'd the wind the forest glades along,
And oft the owl renewid her dismal song;
Around the spot where erst he felt the wound,
Real William's spectre walk'd his midnight round.
When o'er the swamp he cast his blighting look,
From the green marshes of the stagnant brook
The bittern's sullen shout the sedges shook ;
The waning moon, with storm-presaging gleam,
Now

fave and sow withheld her doubtful beam;
The old oak stoop'd his arms, then flung them high,
Dellowing and groaning to the troubled sky-
'Twas then, that, couch'd amid the brushwood sere
In Malwood-walk, young Mansell watch'd the deer :
The fattest buck received his deadly shot-
The watelful keeper heard, and sought the spot.
Stoul were their hearts, and stubborn was their strife,
O'erpower'd at length the outlaw drew his knife!
Next mora a corpse was found upon the fell
The rest his waking agony may tell!

'Lone on the outskirts of the host,
The weary seotinel held post,
And beard, through darkness far aloof,
The frequent clang of courser's hoof,
Where held the cloak'd patrole their course,
And spurr'd 'gainst storm the swerving horse;
But there are souods in Allan's ear,
Patrole nor sentinel may hear,
And si:hts before his eye aghast
Invisible to them have pass'd,

When down the destined plain
"Twixt Britain and the bands of France,
Wild as marsh-borne meteors glance,
Strange phantoms wheeld a revel-dance,

And Joom'd the future slain.-
Such forms were seen, such sounds were heard,
When Scotland's James Juis march prepared

For Flodden's fatal plain;
Such, when he drew huis ruthless sword,
As Chusers of the Slain, adored

The yet unchristen d Dane.
An indistinct and phantom band,
They wheel'd their ring-dance hand in hand,

With gesture wild and dread;
The seer, who watch'd them ride the storm,
Saw through their faint and shadowy form

The lightning's flaslı more red;
And still their ghastly roundelay
Was of the coming battle-fray,

And of the destined dead.

THE DANCE OF DEATH.

Night and morning were at meeting

Over Waterloo ;
Cocks bad sung their earliest greeting,

Faint and low they crew,
For no paly beam yet shone
On the heights of Mount Saint John;
Tempest-clouds prolong d the sway
Of timeless darkness over day;
Whirlwind, thunder-clap, and slower,
Mark'd it a predestined hour.
Broad and frequent through the night
Flash'd the sheets of levin-light;
Muskets, glancing lightnings back,
Show'd the dreary bivouack

Where the soldier lay, Chill and stiff, and drench'd with rain, Wishing dawn of morn again,

Though death should come with day.

SONG

Wheel the wild dance,
While lightnings glance,

And thunders rattle loud,
And call the brave
To bloody grave,

To sleep without a shroud.

« PreviousContinue »