THE DEAD TRUMPETER. BY T. K. HERVEY. WAKE, soldier !-wake!-thy war-horse waits, Sleep, soldier!-sleep!-thy warfare o'er,— Thou need'st nor helm nor cuirass, now, Thy mother is not in thy dreams, Sleep, soldier!-let thy mother wait, Than did thy clarion, on the gale, When last—and far away-she heard its lingering echoes fail! CŒUR DE LION'S ADIEU TO PALESTINE. "It needed not many arguments to convince Richard of the truth of his situation; and, indeed, after the burst of passion, he sat him calmly down, and, with gloomy looks, head depressed, and arms folded on his bosom, listened to the archbishop's reasoning on the impossibility of his carrying on the crusade when deserted by his companions." The Talisman. 1. JERUSALEM!-for thee-for thee, -He was a God who wept of old, 2. Think not-to look on Syrian skies, For Moslem spoil,—or gorgeous ease,— I bade mine ancient banner rise, And traversed earth, and braved the seas; -I have a realm as Eden fair, A thousand woods and streams are there. X |