Awake in thy chamber, thou sweet south-land gale!

Like the sighs of his people, breathe soft on his sail;

Be prolong'd as regret, that his vassals must know,

Be fair as their faith, and sincere as their woe:

Be so soft, and so fair, and so faith

ful, sweet gale, Wafting onward Mackenzie, High Chief of Kintail!

Be his pilot experienced, and trusty, and wise,

To measure the seas and to study the skies:

May he hoist all his canvass from streamer to deck,

But O! crowd it higher when wafting him back

Till the cliffs of Skooroora, and Conan's glad vale,

Shall welcome Mackenzie, High Chief of Kintail!

Safe on that shore again!'Twas valiant Lachlan gave the word: Lachlan, of many a galley lord: He call'd his kindred bands on board, And launch'd them on the main. Clan-Gillian, fierce in foray known; Clan-Gillian is to ocean gone, Rejoicing in the glory won In many a bloody broil: For wide is heard the thundering fray,

The rout, the ruin, the dismay, When from the twilight glens away Clan-Gillian drives the spoil.

Woe to the hills that shall rebound Our banner'd bag-pipes' maddening sound;

Clan-Gillian's onset echoing round,

Shall shake their inmost cell. Woe to the bark whose crew shall gaze,

Where Lachlan's silken streamer plays!

The fools might face the lightning's

blaze

As wisely and as well!

THE DANCE OF DEATH.

I.

NIGHT and morning were at meeting
Over Waterloo;
Cocks had sung their earliest greet-
ing;

Faint and low they crew,
On the heights of Mount Saint John;
For no paly beam yet shone
Tempest-clouds prolonged the sway
Of timeless darkness over day;
Whirlwind, thunder-clap, and shower,
Mark'd it a predestined hour.
Broad and frequent through the night
Flash'd the sheets of levin-light;
Muskets, glancing lightnings back,
Show'd the dreary bivouac.

Where the soldier lay, Chill and stiff, and drench'd with rain, Wishing dawn of morn again,

Though death should come with

day.

II.

"Tis at such a tide and hour, Wizard, witch, and fiend have power, And ghastly forms through mist and

shower

Gleam on the gifted ken;
And then the affrighted prophet's ear
Drinks whispers strange of fate and
fear

Presaging death and ruin near
Among the sons of men;-
Apart from Albyn's war-array,
'Twas then grey Allan sleepless lay;
Grey Allan, who, for many a day,

Had follow'd stout and stern, Where, through battle's rout and reel, Storm of shot and hedge of steel, Led the grandson of Lochiel,

Valiant Fassiefern.

Through steel and shot he leads no more,

Low laid 'mid friends' and foemen's

And doom'd the future slain.Such forms were seen, such sounds were heard

When Scotland's James his march prepared

For Flodden's fatal plain; Such, when he drew his ruthless sword,

As Choosers of the Slain, adored
The yet unchristen'd Dane.
An indistinct and phantom band,
They wheel'd their ring-dance hand
in hand,

With gestures wild and dread; The Seer, who watch'd them ride the storm,

Saw through their faint and shadowy form

The lightning's flash more red;

And still their ghastly roundelay
Was of the coming battle-fray,
And of the destined dead.

And still was heard his warrior lay: "My life it is my country's right,

My heart is in my lady's bower; For love to die, for fame to fight, Becomes the valiant Troubadour." Alas! upon the bloody field

He fell beneath the foeman's glaive,

But still reclining on his shield, Expiring sung the exulting stave:My life it is my country's right, My heart is in my lady's bower; For love and fame to fall in fight Becomes the valiant Troubadour."

FROM THE FRENCH.

It chanced that Cupid on a season, By Fancy urged, resolved to wed, But could not settle whether Reason

Or Folly should partake his bed. What does he then ?-Upon my life, "Twas bad example for a deityHe takes me Reason for a wife,

And Folly for his hours of gaiety. Though thus he dealt in petty trea

In sport we'll attend her, in battle defend her,

With heart and with hand, like our fathers before.

When the Southern invader spread waste and disorder,

At the glance of her crescents he paused and withdrew,

For around them were marshall'd the pride of the Border,

The Flowers of the Forest, the bands of BUCCLEUCH.

Then up with the Banner, &c. A Stripling's weak hand to our revel has borne her,

No mail-glove has grasp'd her, no spearmen surround;

But ere a bold foeman should scathe or should scorn her,

A thousand true hearts would be cold on the ground.

Then up with the Banner, &c. We forget each contention of civil dissension,

And hail, like our brethren, HOME,
DOUGLAS and CAR:

And ELLIOT and PRINGLE in pastime shall mingle,

As welcome in peace as their fathers in war.

Then up with the Banner, &c. Then strip, lads, and to it, though sharp be the weather,

And if, by mischance, you should happen to fall,

There are worse things in life than a tumble on heather,

And life is itself but a game at foot-ball.

For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day.

O ho ro, i ri ri, &c.

SONGS OF MEG MERRILIES.

FROM GUY MANNERING.

"TWIST YE, TWINE YE." Mingle shades of joy and woe, TWIST ye, twine ye! even so, In the thread of human life. Hope, and fear, and peace, and strife,

While the mystic twist is spinning, And the infant's life beginning, Dimly seen through twilight bending,

Lo, what varied shapes attending!

Passions wild, and follies vain,
Pleasures soon exchanged for pain;
Doubt, and jealousy, and fear,
In the magic dance appear.

Now they wax, and now they dwindle,
Whirling with the whirling spindle.
Twist ye, twine ye! even so,
Mingle human bliss and woe.—

THE DYING GIPSY'S DIRGE. WASTED, weary, wherefore stay, Wrestling thus with earth and clay? From the body pass away;—

Hark! the mass is singing.

From thee doff thy mortal weed,
Mary Mother be thy speed,
Saints to help thee at thy need;-

Hark! the knell is ringing

Fear not snow-drift driving fast,
Sleet, or hail, or levin blast;
Soon the shroud shall lap thee fast,
And the sleep be on thee cast

That shall ne'er know wak-
ing.

Haste thee, haste thee, to be gone, Earth flits fast, and time draws on,Gasp thy gasp, and groan thy groan, Day is near the breaking.