The Colours of the 24th.

I.

WAS on that ever-fatal morn

TWAS

When demon force o'erwhelmed the brave,

Who gladiatorial fought forlorn,

And for each life ten death-blows gave.

II.

Beside the Buff'lo's swollen stream

Melville and Coghill sank to die.

Their fight was o'er; their sabres' gleam
No more shall daunt the savage eye.

III.

Like Britons true they fought and died,
When all but Honour's cause was lost,
And saved those Colours of their pride
At life's stern sacrificial cost.

IV.

'Tis ours those Colours to enshrine,

So dearly bought by heroes' blood; Then place them in the fane divine,

For valour glows a fire from God.

Elegiac Stanzas,

Written at the Request of a Friend on a Young Lady who was Bride and Widow within Six Months.

I.

HY short, sweet dream of bliss is o'er,

THY

Tho' scarce hath fled thy bridal morn;
With grief thy breast is stricken sore,
And from thy heart thy Love is torn.

II.

Where lately on thy happy brow

Entwined the orange blossom wreath,

Thy widow's sable tokens now

Betray thee as the bride of Death.

III.

All mirage-like the future rose,
Elysian to thy hopeful eyes;

But now, too soon, bereavement shows
What desert waste before thee lies.

IV.

And as, when midst the parting storm,
The rainbow's hues of promise shine,
E'en so may Hope, in rainbow form,

Shed comfort on that heart of thine.

Mary Queen of Scots' Farewell to France.

I.

LOWLY the galley moved,

SLOWLY

As if half conscious of the heart it tore

From that dear land so passionately loved—

From Calais' fading shore.

II.

All thro' that livelong night

Had Mary yearned to view those cliffs again,
And tho' the morn had blest her thirsting sight,

"Twas but a boon of pain.

III.

Her couch lay on the deck,

Dewed by her lustrous eyes with glistening tears, For to her breast that faint receding speck

Recalled most cherished years.

IV.

Years when the days had wings,

And sped as swiftly as the joys they brought,
Years o'er which childhood fascination flings,

With innocency fraught,

Mary Queen of Scots' Farewell to France.

V.

Close had that childish heart

Clung to that land, e'en as its native vine
Around the stakes, with nature's simple art,
Its loving arms doth twine.

VI.

While round her shrieked the birds,

And the dim shore was fading into blue,

With tears she sighed the fondly spoken words,

66

'Adieu, chère France, adieu!"

C

17

The Martyr King.

THE tragedy is over,

From Charles's princely brow

The regal diadem is snatched,

And England's kingless now.

II.

Along the silent roadway,

With tend'rest loving care,

Their murdered master's headless corse

His faithful servants bear.

III.

The winter sun is setting,

With deep and lurid glow;

And slowly from the leaden sky
Descends the feath'ry snow.

IV.

Upon the mournful bearers
The airy flakelets fall,

And robe the monarch's simple bier
As with a saint's pure pall.

V.

It was a holy symbol,

By nature's voice exprest,
That a spirit, spotless as the snow,
Had gained eternal rest.