A spirit that the smothering vault shall spurn,
And, like a steadfast planet, mount and burn;
And though its crown of flame

Consumed my brain to ashes as it won me,
By all the fiery stars! I'd pluck it on me.

Ay, though it bid me rifle

My heart's last fount for its insatiate thirst;
Though every life-strung nerve be maddened first;
Though it should bid me stifle

The yearning in my throat for my sweet child,
And taunt its mother till my brain went wild;-

All, I would do it all,

Sooner than die, like a dull worm to rot;
Thrust foully in the earth to be forgot.

O heavens! but I appal

Your heart, old man! forgive! Ha! on your lives,
Let him not faint!-rack him till he revives !

Vain, vain; give o'er! His eye

Glazes apace. He does not feel you now

Stand back! I'll paint the death-dew on his brow.

Gods! if he do not die

But for one moment. -one till I eclipse

Conception with the scorn of those calm lips;

Shivering! Hark! he mutters

Brokenly now - that was a difficult breath-
Another? Wilt thou never come, oh Death?
Look! how his temple flutters!

Is his heart still? Aha! lift up his head!

IIe shudders

gasps — Jove help him

so-he's dead."

WILLIS.

THE ORPHAN BOY.

ALAS! I am an orphan boy,

With nought on earth to cheer my heart;

No father's love, no mother's joy,

Nor kin nor kind to take my part.
My lodging is the cold-cold ground
I eat the bread of charity;

And, when the kiss of love goes round
There is no kiss, alas! for me

Yet once I had a father dear,
A mother, too, I wont to prize,
With ready hand to wipe the tear,
If chanced a childish tear to rise:
But cause of tears was rarely found;
For all my heart was youthful glee;
And, when the kiss of love went round,
How sweet a kiss there was for me.

But, ah! there came a war, they say ;
What is a war? I cannot tell;
But drums and fifes did sweetly play,
And loudly rang our village bell.
In truth, it was a pretty sound,

I thought; nor could I thence foresce
That when the kiss of love went round,
There soon would be no kiss for me.

A scarlet coat my father took;

And sword, as bright as bright could bes

And feathers, that so gaily look,

All in a shining cap had he.

Then how my little heart did bound
Alas! I thought it fine to see;

Nor dreamt that, when the kiss went round,
There soon would be no kiss for me.

'Twas when upon her death-bed laid
(0, what a sight was that to see !)
'My child!-my child!" she feebly said-
And gave a parting kiss to me!

So now I am an orphan boy,

With nought below my heart to cheer; No mother's love-no father's joy,

Nor kin nor kind to wipe the tear. My lodging is the cold— cold ground, I eat the bread of charity;

And, when the kiss of love goes round,

There is no kiss of love for me!

'Tis the land of the Brave
And the patriot's grave,
And heroes, and sages of old;
We hallow their dust,

And esteem it a trust,

More precious than jewels or gold.

"Tis the land of the Fair,

And beauty is there,

And the gladness that woman bestows;
When the circle is bright,

With the heart-cheering light,

From the eye of affection that flows.

"Tis the land of the Wise,
With the glorious prize
Of genius her temples are bound;
And she beams from afar,

Like a bright morning star,
To give light to all nations around.

Hail, land of my birth,

Brightest spot upon earth!

Shall I leave thee for others?—No, never!

Where'er I may roam,

Still thou art my home,

Old England, my country, for ever!

RAFFLES

LINES ON THE DEATH OF A LAST CHILD

FAREWELL, my young blossom!

The fairest, the fleetest,

The pride of my bosom

The last and the sweetest.