I flew to the pleasant fields traversed so oft In life's morning march, when my bosom was young; I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft, And knew the sweet strain that the cornreapers sung. Then pledged we the wine-cup, and fondly I swore, From my home and my weeping friends never to part; My little ones kissed me a thousand times o'er, And my wife sobbed aloud in her fulness of heart. "Stay, stay with us,-rest, thou art weary and worn ;" And fain was their war-broken soldier to stay; But sorrow returned with the dawning of morn, And the voice in my dreaming ear melted away. Campbell. YE MARINERS OF ENGLAND. Ye Mariners of England! That guard our native seas ; Your glorious standard launch again And sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow ; And the stormy tempests blow. The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave !— As ye sweep through the deep, d the stormy winds do blow. Britannia needs no bulwark, With thunders from her native oak, As they roar on the shore, When the stormy tempests blow: The meteor flag of England Till danger's troubled night depart, When the storm has ceased to blow; Campbell. HOHENLINDEN.* On Linden, when the sun was low, But Linden saw another sight, By torch and trumpet fast arrayed, Then shook the hills with thunder riven, * A battle fought in Germany on the 3d December, 1800. But redder yet that light shall glow 'Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory, or the grave! Wave, Munich! all thy banners wave, Few, few shall part where many meet! The snow shall be their winding sheet, And every turf beneath their feet Shall be a soldier's sepulchre. Campbell. |