MARCO BOZZARIS, THE EPAMINONDAS OF MODERN GREECE.

His last words were-" To die for liberty is a pleasure and not a pain."

AT midnight, in his guarded tent
The Turk was dreaming of the hour,
When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent,
Should tremble at his power.

In dreams through camp and court, he bore
The trophies of a conqueror;

In dreams his song of triumph heard;
Then wore his monarch's signet ring,
Then pressed that monarch's throne-a king;
As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing,

As Eden's garden bird.

An hour passed on-the Turk awoke ;
That bright dream was his last;

He woke to hear his sentry's shriek,

"To arms! they come! the Greek! the Greek!"
He woke to die midst flame and smoke,
And shout, and groan, and sabre stroke,
And death shots falling thick and fast
As lightnings from the mountain cloud;
And heard, with voice as trumpet loud,
Bozzaris cheer his band :-

"Strike-till the last armed foe expires,
Strike-for your altars and your fires,
Strike-for the green graves of

God-and your native land!"

your sires,

They fought-like brave men, long and well,
They piled that ground with Moslem slain;

They conquered-but Bozzaris fell,

Bleeding at every

vein.

His few surviving comrades saw

His smile when rang their proud hurrah,
And the red field was won;

Then saw in death his eyelids close
Calmly, as to a night's repose,
Like flowers at set of sun.

Come to the bridal chamber, death!
Come to the mother, when she feels
For the first time her first-born's breath ;-
Come when the blessed seals
Which close the pestilence are broke,
And crowded cities wail its stroke;
Come in consumption's ghastly form,
The earthquake shock, the ocean storm ;-
Come when the heart beats high and warm,
With banquet-song, and dance, and wine,
And thou art terrible: the tear,

The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier,
And all we know, or dream, or fear
Of agony, are thine.

But to the hero, when his sword

Has won the battle for the free,
Thy voice sounds like a prophet's word,
And in its hollow tones are heard
The thanks of millions yet to be.
Bozzaris! with the storied brave
Greece nurtured in her glory's time,
Rest thee-there is no prouder grave,
Even in her own proud clime.

We tell thy doom without a sigh;
For thou art freedom's now, and fame's

One of the few, the immortal names,
That were not born to die.

GROUND SWELL IN THE POLAR REGIONS.

THE ice in the polar regions accommodates itself to the surface by bending; but when several yards in thickness, it refuses to yield beyond a certain extent, and is broken in pieces with dreadful explosions. The best account that we know of the appearances presented on such occasions is given by a party of Moravian missionaries, who were engaged in a coasting expedition on the ice along the northern shore of Labrador, with sledges drawn by dogs. They narrowly escaped destruction from one of those occurrences, and were near enough to witness all its grandeur. We extract it from the recent interesting compilation of the Rev. Dr. Brown on the History of the Propagation of Christianity. The missionaries met a sledge with Esquimaux turning in from the sea, who threw in some hints that it might be as well for them to return; after some time their own Esquimaux hinted that there was a ground swell under the ice; it was then scarcely perceptible, except on lying down and applying the ear close to the ice, when a hollow, disagreeable, grating noise was heard ascending from the abyss.

As the motion of the sea under the ice had grown more perceptible, they became alarmed, and began to think it prudent to keep close to the shore; the ice also had fissures in many places, some of which formed chasms of one or two feet; but as these are not uncommon even in its best state, and the dogs

easily leap over them, they are frightful only to strangers. As the wind rose to a storm, the swell had now increased so much that its effects on the ice were extraordinary and really alarming. The sledges, instead of gliding smoothly along on an even surface, sometimes ran with violence after the dogs, and sometimes seemed with difficulty to ascend a rising hill; noises, too, were now distinctly heard in many directions, like the reports of cannon, from the bursting of the ice at a distance. Alarmed at these frightful phenomena, our travellers drove with all haste towards the shore, and as they approached it, the prospect before them was tremendous; the ice, having burst loose from the rocks, was tossed to and fro, and broken in a thousand pieces against the precipices with a dreadful noise; which, added to the raging of the sea, the roaring of the wind, and the driving of the snow, so completely overpowered them as almost to deprive them of the use of both their eyes and ears. To make the land now was the only resource that remained; but it was with the utmost difficulty that the frightened dogs could be driven forward; and as the whole body of the ice frequently sunk below the summits of the rocks, and then rose above them, the only time for landing was at the moment it gained the level of the coast—a circumstance which rendered the attempt extremely nice and hazardous; both sledges, however, succeeded in gaining the shore, and were drawn up on the beach, though not without great difficulty; scarcely had they reached it, when the part of the ice from which they had just escaped burst asunder, and the water, rushing from beneath, instantly precipitated it into the ocean; in a moment, as if by a signal, the whole mass of ice for several miles along the coast, and

extending as far as the eye could reach, began to break and to be overwhelmed with waves; the spectacle was awfully grand; the immense fields of ice rising out of the ocean, clashing against one another, and then plunging in the deep with a violence which no language can describe, and a noise like the discharge of ten thousand cannons, was a sight which must have struck the most unreflecting mind with solemn awe. The brethren were overwhelmed with amazement at their miraculous escape, and even the pagan Esquimaux expressed gratitude to God for their deliverance.

SUFFERINGS FROM WAR.

THE following extract, which refers to the sufferings of the French army during its campaign in Russia, exhibits a graphic description of one of the most appalling scenes in military history :

"The winter now overtook us; and by filling up the measure of each individual's sufferings, put an end to that mutual support which had hitherto sustained us. Henceforward the scene presented only a multitude of isolated and individual struggles.

"The best conducted no longer respected themselves. All fraternity of arms was forgotten, all the bonds of society were torn asunder-excess of misery had brutalized them. A devouring hunger had reduced these unfortunate wretches to the mere brutal instinct of self-preservation, to which they were ready to sacrifice every other consideration.

"The rude and barbarous climate seemed to have communicated its fury to them. Like the worst of