"And, by my word! the bonny bird So, though the waves are raging white, By this the storm grew loud apace, Their trampling sounded nearer. The boat has left a stormy land, When, oh! too strong for human hand, And still they row'd, amidst the roar Lord Ullin reach'd that fatal shore His wrath was changed to wailing→→ For sore dismay'd, through storm and shade, One lovely arm was stretched for aid, And one was round her lover. "Come back! come back!" he cried in grief, "Across this stormy water; And I'll forgive your Highland chief My daughter!-oh! my daughter!" 'Twas vain!-the loud waves lash'd the shore, Return or aid preventing : The waters wild went o'er his child And he was left lamenting. LAST DAYS OF HERCULANEUM.-Atherstone. There was a man, A Roman soldier, for some daring deed That trespassed on the laws, in dungeon low He had a son, 'twas a rosy boy, A little faithful copy of his sire In face and gesture. In her pangs she died Every sport The father shared and heightened. But at length The captive's lot He felt in all its bitterness :-the walls Of his deep dungeon answered many a sigh And heart-heaved groan. His tale was known, and touched He was a poisoned arrow in the breast Where he had been a cure. With earliest morn, Of that first day of darkness and amaze Grew hot at length, and thick; but in his straw The fettered soldier sunk-and with deep awe His useless terrors. But he could not sleep :- Like the sad moanings of November's wind Shot through his veins. Now on his couch he shrunk As though he heard the battle trumpet sound, He slept at last A troubled dreamy sleep. Well-had he slept Soon the storm Burst forth the lightnings glanced :—the air A moment as in sunshine-and was dark : Again a flood of white flame fills the cell Dying away upon the dazzled eye In darkening, quivering tints, as stunning sound Dies throbbing, ringing in the ear. Silence, And blackest darkness. With intensest awe The soldier's frame was filled; and many a thought Of strange foreboding hurried through his mind, As underneath he felt the fevered earth Jarring and lifting—and the massive walls Heard harshly grate and strain :-yet knew he not, While evils undefined and yet to come Glanced through his thoughts, what deep and cureless wound Fate had already g'ven. Where, man of woe! Where, wretched father! is thy boy? Thou callest His name in vain :-he cannot answer thee. Loudly the father called upon his child :No voice replied. Trembling and anxiously He searched their couch of straw with headlong haste Groped darkling on the earth :-no child was there. Of his accursed fetters-till the blood Seemed bursting from his ears, and from his eyes Raging to break his toils-to and fro bounds. The father saw And all his fury fled :—a dead calm fell That instant on him :-speechless, fixed he stood, Intensely on the corse. Those laughing eyes Were not yet closed-and round those pouting lips Silent and pale The father stands :-no tear is in his eye :- Is happiness. Yet could one last embrace Be given, 'twere still a sweeter thing to die. It will be given. Look! how the rolling ground, Moves towards the father's outstretched arm his boy :- And pangless. And death came soon and swift, The huge pile sunk down at once Into the opening earth. Walls-arches-roof- THE END. Edinburgh: Printed by W. & R. Chambers, |