There is an innate feeling clings,
Around our human clay;

A fondness for familiar things,
That will not wear away:
But oft consumes the heart it keeps
Turned in its deathless band;
Even so was his, and now he sleeps
Far from his native land.

THE CAPTIVE KNIGHT.

'Twas a trumpet's pealing sound!

And the Knight look'd down from the Paynim's tower,
And a Christian host, in its pride and power,
Through the pass beneath him wound,
"Cease awhile, clarion! clarion, wild and shrill,
Cease! let them hear the captive's voice! be still!
I knew 'twas a note!

And I see my brethren's lances gleam,

And their pennons wave by the mountain stream,
And their plumes to the glad wind float,
I am here with my heavy chain!

And I look on a torrent sweeping by,

And an eagle rushing to the sky,

And a host to its battle plain.

'Must I pine in my fetters here ?

With the wild wave's foam, and the free bird's flight.
And the tall spear's glancing on my sight,
And the trumpet in mine ear?

Cease awhile, clarion! clarion wild and shrill,
Cease! let them hear the captive's voice! be still! be
still!

"They are gone! they have all passed by!

They in whose wars I had borne my part-
They that I lov'd with a brother's heart,

ENTIMENTAL SONGS.

ave left me here to die! rion! clarion pour thy blast! captive's dream of hope is past."

"er hill and dell

inds stealing, convent bell, lly pealing;

k! it seems to say, these sounds away,

est joys decay,

new their feeling.' Far, far, &c.

agh the charmed air scending,

chaunted prayer,

y blending;

k! it seems to say,
-om such joys away,
which ne'er decay,
life is ending.'
Far, far, &c.

allen warrior's tomb,
onks are bending;
solemn cloister's gloom
me dirge ascending;
-k! it seems to say,
ain is glory's way,
s and empire's sway,
dark grave ending.
Far, far, &c.

our mortal ties,

SWEETLY ON THE WINGS OF MORNING.

SWEETLY on the wings of morning,
Floating down the valley,
Comes the kine's melodious warning,
On the hills to rally:

Peace in ev'ry note is breathing,
On them echo loves to dwell.
Echo loves to dwell.

Silv'ry mists the lake enwreathing
Rise like spirits at the spell!
But ere long, the Peasant's song
To sterner music changing,
Banner'd ranks the vale shall throng
Revenge the rocks be ranging.
Squadrons galloping,

Flames enveloping,

Crags with carnage reeking;
Trumpets sounding,

Shots rebounding,
Death for victims shrieking!
Till the shout of victory clearing
Battle's crimson clouds away,
Peace with Freedom reappearing,
Here resume their ancient sway.
Then again the breeze of morning,
Floating down the valley,

Shall bear the kine's melodious warning
On the hills to rally.

EVENING SONG TO THE VIRGIN AT SEA.

AVE sanctissima,

We lift our souls to thee,

Ora pro nobis,

Tis night-fall on the sea.

Watch us while shadows lie,
Far o'er the water spread,
Hear the heart's lonely sigh-
Thine too hath bled.

Thou that hast look'd on death,
Aid us when death is near.

Whisper of heaven to faith,

Sweet mother, sweet mother hear.

FAREWELL-farewell to thee, Araby's daughter!
(Thus warbled a Peri beneath the dark sea;)
No pearl ever lay under Oman's green water,
More pure in its shell than thy spirit in thee.
Oh! fair as thee sea-flower close to the growing
How light was thy heart till love's witchery came,
Like the wind of the south o'er a summer lute blowing,
And hush'd all its music and wither'd its frame!
But long upon Araby's green sunny highlands,

Shall maids and their lovers remember the doom Of her who lies sleeping among the Pearl Islands, With nought but the sea-star to light up her tomb.

And still when the merry date season is burning,
And calls to the palm-groves the young and the old
The happiest there from their pastime returning,

At sunset will weep when thy story is told.

The young village maid, when with flowers she dresses
Her dark flowing hair, for some festival day,
Will think of thy fate, till neglecting her tresses,
She mournfully turns from the mirror away.
Nor shall Iran, belov'd of her hero! forget thee,
Tho' tyrants watch over her tears as they start;
Close, close by the side of that hero she'll set thee,
Enbalm'd in the innermost shrine of her heart.

Farewell-be it ours to embellish thy pillow

With every thing beauteous that grows in the deep; Each flower of the rock, and each gem of the billow, Shall sweeten thy bed and illumine thy sleep.

Around thee shall glisten the loveliest amber

That ever the sorrowing sea bird has wept;
With many a shell in whose hollow-wreath'd chamber,
We, Peris of ocean, by moonlight have slept.

We'll dive where the gardens of coral lie darkling;
And plant all the rosiest stems at thy head;

We'll seek where the sands of the Caspian are sparkling,

And gather their gold to strew over thy bed.

Farewell farewell-until Pity's sweet fountain

Is lost in the hearts of the fair and the brave, They'll weep for the chieftain who died on that mountain;

They'll weep for the maiden who sleeps in this wave.