Back to the pathless forest,
Before the peep of day.

Grave men there are by broad Santee,
Grave men with hoary hairs,
Their hearts are all with Marion,
For Marion are their prayers.

And lovely ladies greet our band
With kindliest welcoming,

With smiles like those of summer,
And tears like those of spring.

For them we wear these trusty arms,
And lay them down no more
Till we have driven the Briton,
For ever, from our shore.

THE ARCTIC LOVER.

GONE is the long, long winter night ;
Look, my beloved one!

How glorious, through his depths of light,
Rolls the majestic sun!

The willows, waked from winter's death,

Give out a fragrance like thy breath—

The summer is begun!

Ay, 'tis the long bright summer day:
Hark, to that mighty crash!

The loosened ice-ridge breaks away—

The smitten waters flash.

Seaward the glittering mountain rides, While, down its green translucent sides, The foamy torrents dash.

See, love, my boat is moored for thee,

By ocean's weedy floor

The petrel does not skim the sea

More swiftly than my oar.

We'll go, where, on the rocky isles,

Her eggs the screaming sea-fowl piles
Beside the pebbly shore.

Or, bide thou where the poppy blows,
With wind-flowers frail and fair,

While I, upon his isle of snows,

Seek and defy the bear.

Fierce though he be, and huge of frame, This arm his savage strength shall tame, And drag him from his lair.

When crimson sky and flamy cloud
Bespeak the summer o'er,

And the dead valleys wear a shroud
Of snows that melt no more,
I'll build of ice thy winter home,
With glistening walls and glassy dome,
And spread with skins the floor.

The white fox by thy couch shall play; And, from the frozen skies,

The meteors of a mimic day

Shall flash upon thine eyes.

And I-for such thy vow-meanwhile Shall hear thy voice and see thy smile,

Till that long midnight flies.

THE JOURNEY OF LIFE.

BENEATH the waning moon I walk at night,
And muse on human life-for all around
Are dim uncertain shapes that cheat the sight,
And pitfalls lurk in shade along the ground,
And broken gleams of brightness, here and there,
Glance through, and leave unwarmed the death-

like air.

The trampled earth returns a sound of fearA hollow sound, as if I walked on tombs ;