EXILE OF ERIN

THERE came to the beach a poor Exile of Erin,
The dew on his thin robe was heavy and chill;
For his country he sighed, when at twilight repairing,
To wander alone by the wind-beaten hill:
But the day-star attracted his eye's sad devotion,
For it rose o'er his own native isle of the ocean,
Where once in the fire of his youthful emotion,
He sang the bold anthem of Erin go bragh.

Sad is thy fate! said the heart-broken stranger;
The wild deer and wolf to a covert can flee,
But I have no refuge from famine and danger,
A home and a country remain not to me.
Never again, in the green sunny bowers,
Where my forefathers lived, shall I spend the sweet
hours,

Or cover my harp with the wild-woven flowers,

And strike to the numbers of Erin go bragh!

Erin, my country! though sad and forsaken,

In dreams I revisit thy sea-beaten shore;

But alas! in a far foreign land I awaken,

And sigh for the friends who can meet me no more! Oh, cruel fate! wilt thou never replace me

In the mansion of peace-where no perils can chase me?

Never again shall my brothers embrace me?

They died to defend me or live to deplore!

EXILE OF ERIN

Where is my cabin door, fast by the wild wood?
Sisters and sire! did ye weep for its fall?
Where is the mother that looked on my childhood?
And where is the bosom friend dearer than all?
Ch! my sad heart! long abandoned by pleasure,
Why did it dote on a fast fading treasure?
Tears, like the raindrop, may fall without measure,
But rapture and beauty they cannot recall.

Yet all its sad recollections suppressing,
One dying wish my lone bosom can draw;
Erin! an exile bequeathes thee his blessing!
Land of my forefathers! Erin go bragh!
Buried and cold, when my heart stills her motion,
Green be thy field, sweetest isle of the ocean!

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And thy harp-striking bards sing aloud with devotion,Erin mavournin-Erin go bragh!

THOMAS CAMPBELL.

FOR A' THAT AND A' THAT

'S there for honest poverty

Is

That hangs his head, and a' that? The coward slave, we pass him by; We dare be poor for a' that.

For a' that and a' that.

Our toils obscure, and a' that;

The rank is but the guinea's stamp,—
The man's the gowd for a' that.

What though on hamely fare we dine,

Wear hoddin' gray, and a' that;

Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine,

A man's a man for a' that.

For a' that and a' that.

Their tinsel show and a' that;

The honest man though e'er so poor,
Is king o' men for a' that.

Ye see yon birkie ca'd a lord,

Wha struts and stares and a' that,—
Though hundreds worship at his word,
He's but a coof for a' that;
For a' that and a' that,
His riband, star and a' that,
The man of independent mind,
He looks and laughs at a' that.

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FOR A' THAT AND A' THAT

A prince can mak a belted knight,
A marquis, duke and a' that;

But an honest man's aboon his might,-
Gude faith he maunna fa' that!

For a' that and a' that

Their dignities and a' that;

The pith o' sense and pride o' worth,
Are higher rank than a' that.

Then let us pray that come it may,—
As come it will for a' that,-

That sense and worth o'er a' the earth,
May bear the gree, and a' that.
For a' that and a' that,-

It's comin' yet for a' that

That man to man, the warld o'er,

Shall brothers be for a' that!

ROBERT BUrns.

"HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD

I

NEWS FROM GHENT TO AIX"

SPRANG to the stirrup, and Joris, and he;

I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three; "Good speed!" cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew; Speed!" echoed the wall to us galloping through;

Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest,

And into the midnight we galloped abreast.

Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace
Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place;
I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight,
Then shortened each stirrup, and set the pique right,
Rebuckled the cheek strap, chained slacker the bit,
Nor galloped less steadily Roland a whit.

'Twas moonset at starting; but while we drew near
Lokeren, the cocks crew and twilight dawned clear;
At Boom, a great yellow star came out to see;
At Düffeld, 'twas morning as plain as could be;

And from Mecheln church steeple we heard half the chime,

So, Joris broke silence with, "Yet there is time!"

At Aershot, up leaped of a sudden the sun,
And against him the cattle stood black every one,