THE WEAVER BOY.

"OH stay, oh stay, thou lady gay!

And deign to lend an ear;
Fair lady, seekest thou thy love?

Thy truest love is here."

“And how dost thou presume to love,"

The lady gay replied,

"A maid so much thy rank above,

Both rich and dignified?

Hence, simple boy, and learn to know
That ladies do not look so low."

"Oh stay, oh stay, thou lady gay!"
With tears the youth did cry;
And the gentle maid once more hath stay'd
Before the pleading boy.

"My station thou art far above,

That truth too well I know,

Since thou hast bought my work of love,

And yet contemn'st me so."

And how is that, the maid did say,
"Speak, for I can no longer stay?"

F

"Fair lady, as at work I sat,

And wrought that garment fine,
A winged child, who lisp'd and smil'd,
Foretold it should be thine;

He took a fibre from my heart,
And trac'd that pattern dear,
And dy'd it with my love-warm blood,
And wash'd it with my tear!"
With melting eye the maid did say,
"Take comfort till another day."

LAMENT FOR MY DAUGHTER.

My angel child! my angel child!
Gentle, affectionate, and mild;

Her arms around my neck she coil'd,
And look'd, and wept, my angel child!

She wept that we so soon must part;
She knew that death was near her heart.
We were but three, O, God above!
Couldst Thou not spare that group of love?

Oh, mournful hour! oh, anguish deep!
She, weeping, bade me not to weep;
And meekly in her tears she smil❜d,
Like sunbeam cast on ruin wild.

Sweet flowers unto her grave I bring,
To bloom, to die, in early spring;
All pure, and beautiful, and mild,
Like my lost dove, my angel child!

HER EPITAPH.

To the gentle and blest,
Who hath come to her rest,
An offering meet

In season appears;

All beautiful and sweet,
Flowers, nursed in tears.

LINES

OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF LORD BYRON, AND BY SOME CIRCUMSTANCES CONNECTED THEREWITH.

I SAW the sun go down-

And in that dark'ning time,

From earth to sky uprose the cry
Of many a tongue and clime.

By Valtos, where Botzaris fell,
The mailed freeman stood and cried
Until his fount of tears was dried :

And Britain, too, could tell

How she had gloried in that day,
How mournéd when it pass'd away!
And, as I looked again, behold

A fearful sight advance!

For

up

there came the cold, cold moon,

That dream'd not of a night so soon.
I mark'd her placid glance;
Serenely still she kept her sky,
Her head unbowed, her tearless eye
Betray'd a mien that might not move
At death, or agony, or love—

And curl'd around her crested horn,

I saw a snake of fire,

Which utter'd words of bitter scorn;

Interminable ire

Dwelt on the tongue of that strange thing, That round and round the moon did cling!

Of broken vows, of pride that bled, The scorching reptile ever spoke ;

Anon, it toss'd its scaly head,

That flash'd as if the lightning broke!
When cruel words and passions woke

It nurs'd the flame, and kept it burning;
To love, to duty, no returning

Was ever known ;-no sigh, no tear,
Hath stray'd from that unmelting sphere!

The present race of men shall die,

Before another sun

Arise so bright, or soar so high,

As, lost one, thou hast done!

The priest is laughing 'neath his robe,
The tyrant on his throne;

In hollow phrase they dole forth praise
Far better let alone.

The press, which "should as air be free,"
Doth speak in guarded words of thee;
Whilst bigotry and power do stand
In dark conjunction o'er the land !

SONG OF THE POLISH ARMY ON ITS RETREAT FROM WARSAW.

WE meet at the home of our fathers no more,
But leave it all red with the Muscovites' gore!
They came like the hunger-press'd wolf to his prey,
Who cannot, who will not, be turnéd away.
They came like the waves of the deluging main,
Their living surmounting their masses of slain;
And onward, and onward, they bore to the strife,
To the gushing of blood, to the gasping of life;
Till ramparts were pil'd of the thousands we slew,
And blood cometh o'er us in rain and in dew,
And corses are feeding the fowls of the air,
At the banquet of death, on the field of despair!