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Before him, like a blood-red flag,
The bright flamingoes flew ;
O'er plains where the tamarind grew,
And the ocean rose to view.
And the hyæna scream,
Beside some hidden stream;
Through the triumph of his dream.
Shouted of liberty ;
With a voice so wild and free,
At their tempestuous glee.
Nor the burning heat of day ;
And his lifeless body lay
THE BUTTERFLY'S BALL AND THE
COME, take up your hats, and away let us haste,
THE CHAMPION'S BANNER.
THE CHAMPION'S BANNER. THERE was joy in merry England, in the cottage, in the hall, From where blue Teviot rippling flows to Dover's sea-girt wall, When the high-souled Prince William came, the champion of
our cause, To defend our pure religion, our liberties, and laws. There was joy when into Exeter the champion's army passed, And banners from the housetops were floating in the blast; The gazers thronged the windows, and garlands decked the
street, The bells pealed from the steeples, and the war-drums wildly
Whilst trumpets blared defiance, to all who dared gainsay
THE CHAMPION'S BANNER.
205 As thro' the densely-crowded street, a goodly sight to see, In glittering helms and corslets rode the hero's chivalry : How shouted each bold Briton, as freely, widely spread, The good Prince William's banner came towering overhead, Thrilled at the bright words glowing in rich embroidery there, Shouts from ten thousand manly throats pealed upward thro' the For in the champion's motto the old land lives again,-Her pure faith and her “ liberties” he sweareth to “maintain.” Lo! where the hero rideth, with lofty look and high : No marvel that for such a prince true men should bravely die. See, his old foeman Schomberg in peace rides with him now, O’er many a well-fought field hath beamed his laurel-wreathéd
brow. There Bentinck, Solmes, and Mackey come, like brothers hand
in hand, And filled the rear, in warrior pride, lamented Ossory's band. Gone is that glorious pageant, the sight is seen no more, Save in the misty dreamland of the vanished days of yore. Gone are those noble heroes to their last and holy rest, Quenched is the fiery zeal which glowed in every patriot's breast. Their battle-blades and helmets are coated thick with rust, And the strong right hands that grasped those swords have
crumbled into dust. And that bright and holy banner, hath that too passed away? Or on its glorious motto doth still the sunlight play In some lofty gothic minster, where many banners wave In grandeur, o'er the last long home of the mighty and the brave? Hath mildew dimmed the fiery words once brightly blazoned there? Or hath oblivion's dull cold hand effaced the motto rare ? No! though the silk has perished, the words shall never die, Still shall true voices ring them, like a pæan to the sky; Whilst hearts shall glow and pulses beat, o daughter f the main, Thy laws, thy liberties, thy creed, we nobly will maintain ; And the good champion's motto a legacy shall be To us, the brave free children of the Island of the Sea ; And if ever foreign foemen assail this sea-girt strand, We'll shout the champion's motto thro' all our native land; O’er crag and dell we'll send it forth in all its pristine might; And with stout heart and mighty voice cry, “God defend the right."
-7. M. Brindley.
THE BURIAL OF MOSES. By Nebo's lonely mountain,
On this side Jordan's wave,
There lies a lonely grave;
And no man saw it e'er,
And laid the dead man there.
That ever passed on earth; But no man heard the trampling,
Or saw the train go forthNoiselessly as the daylight
Comes back when night is done, And the crimson streaks on ocean's cheek
Grows into the great sun. Noiselessly as the spring-time
Her crown of verdure weaves, And all the trees on all the hills
Open their thousand leaves ; So, without sound of music,
Or voice of them that wept, Silently down from the mountain's crown
The great procession swept. Perchance the bald old eagle
On grey Beth-Peor's height, Out of his lonely eyrie
Looked on the wondrous sight; Perchance the lion stalking
Still shuns that hallowed spot, For beast and bird have seen and heard
That which man knoweth not.
But when the warrior dieth,
His comrades in the war,
Follow his funeral car;