The lady Alice sits with her maidens in her bower; tower. "What news, what news, old Anthony?"-"The field is lost and won, The ranks of war are melting as the mists beneath the sun; And a wounded man speeds hither, I am old and cannot see, Or sure I am that sturdy step my master's step should be." "I bring thee back the standard from as rude and rough a fray, As e'er was proof of soldier's thews, or theme for min strel's lay, Bid Hubert fetch the silver bowl, and liquor quantum suff: I'll make a shift to drain it, ere I part with boot and buff; Though Guy through many a gaping wound is breathing out his life, And I come to thee a landless man, my fond and faithful wife! "Sweet, we will fill our money-bags, and freight a ship for France, And mourn in merry Paris for this poor realm's mischance; Or, if the worse betide me, why, better axe or rope, Than life with Lenthal for a king, and Peters for a pope! Alas, alas, my gallant Guy! out on the crop-eared boor, That sent me with my standard on foot from Marston Moor! " THE COVENANTER'S LAMENT FOR THE men of sin prevail ! Once more the prince of this world lifts his horn; Where are our brethren? where Mangled and marred they lie Upon the bloody pillow of their rest; So let our foes rejoice; We to the Lord, who hears their impious boasts, Give ear unto our song; Only to Thee we bow: Our lips have drained the fury of Thy cup; Avenge,-oh! not our years Of pain and wrong, the blood of martyrs shed, The babe's bread torn away, Is not Thine own dread rod Mocked by the proud, Thy holy book disdained, Break Pharaoh's iron crown; Bind with new chains their nobles and their kings; Come in Thine own good time ! Be Thou our guard and guide! From lonely rocks and caves WRITTEN UNDER A PICTURE OF KING'S COLLEGE CHAPEL, CAMBRIDGE. MOST beautiful! I gaze and gaze The ground were still divine.. Some awe the good and wise have felt, But when was high devotion graced At midnight, when the lonely moon For every change of hour and form Makes that fair scene more deeply fair, And dusk and daybreak, calm and storm, Are all Religion there. ANTICIPATION. "OH yes! he is in Parliament; You can't conceive the time he's spent He'll think of nothing, night and day, "He filled an album, long ago, He'll care for no such nonsense now: "I vow he's turned a Goth, a Hun, He'll never laugh at Drury Lane." " |