And like the play of words above, WATER-LILIES. A FAIRY SONG. COME away, elves! while the dew is sweet, On the quivering sleep of the water's breast, As if seeking its kindred where bright they lie, -Come away! under arching boughs we'll float, We'll row them with reeds o'er the fountains free, And we'll send out wild music so sweet and low, Or water drops train'd into melody. -Come away! for the midsummer sun grows strong, And the life of the lily may not be long THE BROKEN FLOWER. OH! wear it on thy heart, my love! Sweetness is lingering in its leaves, Yet, for the sake of what hath been, Oh, cast it not away! "Twas born to grace a summer scene, My love! A long, bright, golden day! A little while around thee, love! But not even that warm heart hath power -Oh! I am like thy broken flower, Cherish'd too late, too late, My love! Cherish'd alas! too late! I WOULD WE HAD NOT MET AGAIN.-ETC. 427 I WOULD WE HAD NOT MET AGAIN. 1 WOULD we had not met again! I had a dream of thee, Lovely, though sad, on desert plain, What though it haunted me by night Oh! what shall now my faith restore We met-I saw thy soul once more- Yet would I buy with life again FAIRIES' RECALL. WHILE the blue is richest In the lily's urn, Bright elves of the wild wood! Round the forest fountain, Oberon, Titania, Did your starlight mirth, Quit this work-day earth? Yet while green leaves glisten, * See the chorus of Fairies in the Flower and the Leaf" of Chaucer THE ROCK BESIDE THE SEA. The wild wave's thunder on the shore, Come back my ocean rover! come. O YE VOICES GONE. OH! ye voices gone, All around forget, All who loved you well. With the winds of spring, But more deeply lone. BY A MOUNTAIN STREAM AT REST. By a mountain stream at rest, We found the warrior lying, And around his noble breast Was every hill, And the winds of night were sighing. IS THERE SOME SPIRIT SIGHING.-ETC. Last of his noble race To a lonely bed we bore him; 'Twas a green, still, solemn place, Where the mountain-heath waves o'er him. Seem to moan, Wild streams to deplore him. Yet, from festive hall and lay Our sad thoughts oft are flying, A banner press'd, And the night-wind o'er him sighing. IS THERE SOME SPIRIT SIGHING. Is there some spirit sighing If not, then how can that wild wail, Be drawn forth by the wandering gale, No, no!-thou dost not borrow THE NAME OF ENGLAND. THE trumpet of the battle Hath a high and thrilling tone; And the first deep gun of an ocean fight But a mightier power, my England! To strike the fire from every heart Proudly it woke the spirits Of yore, the brave and true, When the bow was bent on Cressy's field, 429 And proudly hath it floated Through the battles of the sea, When the red-cross flag o'er smoke wreaths play'd, On rock, on wave, on bastion, By a thousand streams the hearts lie low, A thousand ancient mountains OLD NORWAY. A MOUNTAIN WAR-SONG. "To a Norwegian the words Gamle Norge (Old Norway) have a spell in them immediate and powerful; they cannot be resisted. Gamle Norgé is heard, in an instant, repeated by every voice; the glasses are filled, raised, and drained; not a drop is left; and then bursts forth the simultaneous chorus For Norge!' the national song of Norway. Here, (at Christiansand,) and in a hundred other instances in Norway, I have seen the character of a company entirely changed by the chance introduction of the expression Gamlé Norge. The gravest discussion is instantly interrupted; and one might suppose for the moment, that the party was a party of patriots assembled to commemorate some national anniversary of freedom."-DERWENT CONWAY's Personal Narrative of a Journey through Norway and Sweden. The following words were written to the national air, as con tained in the work above cited.] ARISE! old Norway sends the word Her voice the forest pines hath stirr'd, Her thousand hills the call have heard, Arm, arm, free hunters! for the chase, "Tis not the bear or wild wolf's race, Our hills have dark and strong defiles, Heap there the rocks for funeral piles, Or let the seas, that guard our isles, |