THE TRAITOR. (From "Lalla Rookh.") H for a tongue to curse the slave, Whose treason, like a deadly blight, Comes o'er the councils of the brave, And blasts them in their hour of might! May life's unblessed cup for him Be drugged with treacheries to the brim, With hopes, that but allure to fly, With joys, that vanish while he sips, Like Dead-Sea fruits, that tempt the eye, But turn to ashes on the lips. His country's curse, his children's shame; Outcast of virtue, peace and fame; May he, at last, with lips of flame, On the parched desert thirsting die, While lakes, that shine in mockery nigh, Are fading off, untouched, untasted, Like the once glorious hopes he blasted! And, when from earth his spirit flies, Just Prophet, let the damned one dwell Full in the sight of Paradise, Beholding heaven, and feeling hell! THOMAS MOORE. THE BARD. (The following Ode is founded on a tradition current in Wales, that Edward I., when he completed the conquest of that country, ordered all the Bards that fell into his hands to be put to death.) OUIN seize thee, ruthless king! "R Confusion on thy banners wait; Though fanned by conquest's crimson wing, They mock the air with idle state! Helm nor hauberk's twisted mail, Nor e'en thy virtues, tyrant! shall avail To save thy secret soul from nightly fears, From Cambria's curse, from Cambria's tears." Such were the sounds that o'er the crested pride Of the first Edward scattered wild dismay, As down the steep of Snowdon's shaggy side He wound with toilsome march his long array; Stout Glo'ster stood aghast in speechless trance; "To arms!" cried Mortimer, and couched his quivering lance. I. 2. On a rock, whose haughty brow Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood, Robed in the sable garb of woe, With haggard eye, the poet stood; III. 3. Lance to lance, and horse to horse? course, And through the kindred squadrons mow Ye towers of Julius! London's lasting shame! Twined with her blushing foe, we spread; Wallows beneath the thorny shade. Now, brothers, bending o'er the accursed loom, Fierce War, and faithful Love, And truth severe, by fairy Fiction dressed. Pale grief, and pleasing Pain, Gales from blooming Eden bear, And distant warblings lessen on my ear, That lost in long futurity expire. Fond, impious man! think'st thou yon sanguine cloud, Raised by thy breath, has quenched the orb of day? Stamp we our vengeance deep, and ratify his Tomorrow he repairs the golden flood, doom. III. 1. "Edward, lo! to sudden fate, (Weave we the woof; the thread is spun) Half of thy heart we consecrate; (The web is wove; the work is done) Stay, oh stay! nor thus forlorn Leave me unblest, unpitied here to mourn. skies, They melt, they vanish, from my eyes. But oh! what solemn scenes on Snowdon's height, Descending slow, their glittering skirts unroll! Visions of glory! spare my aching sight! III. 2. "Girt with many a baron bold; Sublime their starry fronts they rear, And gorgeous dames and statesmen old In bearded majesty appear; In the midst a form divine! Her eye proclaims her of the Briton-line, What strings symphonious tremble in the air! Hear from the grave, great Taliessin, hear! And warms the nations with redoubled ray. The different doom our fates assign : Deep in the roaring tide, he plunged to end- THOMAS GRAY. THE AMERICAN FLAG. HEN Freedom, from her mountain USH S height, Unfurled her standard to the air, She tore the azure robe of night, And set the stars of glory there; Majestic monarch of the cloud, Who rear'st aloft thy regal form, And see the lightning-lances driven Like rainbows on the clouds of war, Flag of the brave! thy folds shall fly, And cowering foes shall shrink beneath Each gallant arm that strikes below That lovely messenger of death. Flag of the seas! on ocean wave Flag of the free heart's hope and home! Thy stars have lit the welkin dome, And all thy hues were born in heaven. Forever float that standard sheet! Where breathes the foe, but falls before us, With Freedom's soil beneath our feet, And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us? JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE. Gave proof, through the night, that our flag was still there. Oh, say! does that star-spangled banner yet wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave? On that shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep, Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep, As it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses ? Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam, In full glory reflected, now shines on the stream. 'Tis the star-spangled banner-oh, long may it wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave! And where is that band who so vauntingly swore That the havoc of war and the battle's con fusion A home and a country should leave us no more? Their blood has washed out their foul foot steps' pollution! No refuge could save the hireling and slave From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave; And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave! Oh! thus be it ever when freemen shall stand Between their loved home and the war's desolation; Blessed with victory and peace, may the heaven-rescued land Praise the Power that hath made and preserved it a nation! THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER. H say! can you see, by the dawn's early light, What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's Thus conquer we must, when our cause it is last gleaming, just, Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through And this be our motto: "In God is our O'er the ramparts we watched were so gal- And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall lantly streaming? wave And the rocket's red glare, the bombs burst- O'er the land of the free and the home of the ing in air, MARYLAND. She meets her sisters on the plain; Sic semper, 'tis the proud refrain, That baffles minions back amain, Maryland! (Written when the whole country, North and South, was anxiously awaiting the action of the doubtful states, this poem, one of the finest lyrics the War produced, has lost none of its beauty as a passionate appeal, a stirring call to arms. The allusion in the fifth stanza (“A new Key”) Arise in majesty again, is to the author of "The Star-Spangled Banner," who was a Marylander.) THE despot's heel is on thy shore, Maryland! His torch is at thy temple door, Maryland! Avenge the patriotic gore That flecked the streets of Baltimore, And be the battle-queen of yore, Maryland, my Maryland! Hark to thy wandering son's appeal, Maryland! My mother state: to thee I kneel, Maryland! For life and death, for woe and weal, And gird thy beauteous limbs with steel, Thou wilt not cower in the dust, Thy beaming sword shall never rust, Remember Carroll's sacred trust; Remember Howard's war-like thrust; And all thy slumberers with the just, Maryland, my Maryland! Come! 'tis the red dawn of the day, Come with thy panoplied array, With Ringgold's spirit for the fray, Come! for thy shield is bright and strong, Come! for thy dalliance does thee wrong, Come to thine own heroic throng, And gives a new Key to thy song, Dear Mother! burst the tyrant's chain! Virginia should not call in vain, Maryland, my Maryland! I see the blush upon thy cheek, For thou wast ever bravely meek, But lo! there surges forth a shriek, Maryland, my Maryland! Thou wilt not yield the Vandal toll, Thou wilt not crook to his control, Better the fire upon thee roll, Better the blade, the shot, the bowl, Than crucifixion of the soul, Maryland, my Maryland! I hear the distant thunder hum, The old Line's bugle, fife and drum, She is not dead, nor deaf, nor dumb; Maryland, my Maryland! JAMES RYDER RANDALL. MUSIC IN CAMP. WO armies covered hill and plain, And each dread gun of the elements The breeze so softly blew, it made And the smoke of the random cannonade And now where circling hills looked down, O'er listless camp and silent town |