"There, sir, ah! there was booty worth the "Come, friend, you've seen some stormy weather,

showing,

With me is now your bed;

We'll drink of Walter's grapes together,

And eat of Walter's bread."

"Now, done! I march in, then, to-morrow;
You're his true heir, I see;

And when I die, your thanks, kind master,
The Turkish pipe shall be."

From the German of PFEFFEL,

by CHARLES T. BROOKS.

BINGEN ON THE RHINE.

A SOLDIER of the Legion lay dying in Algiers, There was lack of woman's nursing, there was dearth of woman's tears;

But a comrade stood beside him, while his lifeblood ebbed away,

And bent, with pitying glances, to hear what he might say.

The dying soldier faltered, and he took that comrade's hand,

And he said, "I nevermore shall see my own, my native land;

Take a message, and a token, to some distant | Too innocent for coquetry, too fond for idle friends of mine, scorning, For I was born at Bingen, at Bingen on the O friend! I fear the lightest heart makes someRhine.

"Tell my brothers and companions, when they meet and crowd around,

To hear my mournful story, in the pleasant vineyard ground,

That we fought the battle bravely, and when the day was done,

Full many a corse lay ghastly pale beneath the setting sun;

times heaviest mourning!

Tell her the last night of my life (for, ere the moon be risen,

My body will be out of pain, my soul be out of prison),

I dreamed I stood with her, and saw the yellow sunlight shine

On the vine-clad hills of Bingen, — fair Bingen on the Rhine.

And, mid the dead and dying, were some grown "I saw the blue Rhine sweep along, - I heard, old in wars, or seemed to hear,

The death-wound on their gallant breasts, the The German songs we used to sing, in chorus last of many scars; sweet and clear;

And some were young, and suddenly beheld life's And down the pleasant river, and up the slantmorn decline,

--

ing hill,

And one had come from Bingen, - fair Bingen The echoing chorus sounded, through the evening on the Rhine.

For the honor of old Bingen, — dear Bingen on the Rhine.

"There's another,

days gone by

not a sister; in the happy

calm and still;

His comrade bent to lift him, but the spark of
life had fled,
The soldier of the Legion in a foreign land is dead!
And the soft moon rose up slowly, and calmly
she looked down

On the red sand of the battle-field, with bloody
corses strewn ;

Yes, calmly on that dreadful scene her pale light seemed to shine,

As it shone on distant Bingen, - fair Bingen on the Rhine.

CAROLINE E. NORTON.

WOUNDED TO DEATH.

STEADY, boys, steady!
Keep your arms ready,

God only knows whom we may meet here.
Don't let me be taken;
I'd rather awaken,

You'd have known her by the merriment that To-morrow, in-no matter where,

sparkled in her eye;

Than lie in that foul prison-hole-over there.

What, Morris, a tear? Why, shame on ye, man! Can't you say a short prayer for the dying and

Our men sprang upon them, determined to die? I am dying-bend down till I touch you once

look round

One by one the pale stars faded, and at length Clinging closely to each other, striving never to the morning broke ; But not one of all the sleepers on that field of As they passed with silent shudder the pale death awoke. corses on the ground,

Slowly passed the golden hours of that long Came two little maidens, — sisters, — with a light bright summer day, and hasty tread,

And upon that field of carnage still the dead And a look upon their faces, half of sorrow, half unburied lay. of dread.

Lay there stark and cold, but pleading with a And they did not pause nor falter till, with dumb, unceasing prayer, throbbing hearts, they stood

For a little dust to hide them from the staring Where the drummer-boy was lying in that parsun and air. tial solitude.

But the day was slowly breaking ere their holy OUR bugles sang truce,—for the night-cloud had