Her march is on the mountain waves, With thunders from her native oak, As they roar on the shore, When the stormy tempests blow; And the stormy tempests blow. IY. The meteor flag of England Till danger's troubled night depart When the storm has ceased to blow; GLENARA. O HEARD ye yon pibroch sound sad in the gale, Glenara came first with the mourners and shroud; In silence they reached over mountain and moor, Now here let us place the grey stone of her cairn: 66 Why speak ye no word?" said Glenara the stern, "And tell me, I charge you! ye clan of my spouse, "I dreamt of my lady, I dreamt of her shroud," Cried a voice from the kinsmen, all wrathful and loud; "And empty that shroud and that coffin did seem: Glenara! Glenara! now read me my dream!" O! pale grew the cheek of that chieftain, I ween, "I dreamt of my lady, I dreamt of her grief, In dust, low the traitor has knelt to the ground, BATTLE OF THE BALTIC. I. Or Nelson and the North, Sing the glorious day's renown, When to battle fierce came forth All the might of Denmark's crown, And her arms along the deep proudly shone; By each gun the lighted brand, In a bold determined hand, Led them on. II. Like Leviathans afloat, Lay their bulwarks on the brine; It was ten of April morn by the chime: There was silence deep as death; And the boldest held his breath, III. But the might of England flushed And her van the fleeter rushed O'er the deadly space between. "Hearts of oak!" our captains cried, when each gun From its adamantine lips Spread a death-shade round the ships, Like the hurricane eclipse Of the sun. IV. Again! again! again! And the havoc did not slack, Till a feeble cheer the Dane To our cheering sent us back ;— Their shots along the deep slowly boom :- Then ceased-and all is wail, As they strike the shattered sail; Or, in conflagration pale, Light the gloom. V. Out spoke the victor then, As he hailed them o'er the wave, "Ye are brothers! ye are men! With the crews, at England's feet, And make submission meet ΤΊ. Then Denmark blest our chief, As death withdrew his shades from the day, O'er a wide and woeful sight, Where the fires of funeral light Died away. VII. Now joy, old England, raise! While the wine cup shines in light; Full many a fathom deep, By thy wild and stormy steep, VIII. Brave hearts! to Britain's pride Captain Riou, justly entitled the gallant and the good by Lord Nelson, when he wrote home his despatches. Soft sigh the winds of heaven o'er their grave! And the mermaid's song condoles, LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER. A CHIEFTAIN, to the Highlands bound, "Now who be ye would cross Lochgyle, This dark and stormy water?" 'Oh, I'm the chief of Ulva's isle, And this Lord Ullin's daughter. "And fast before her father's men Three day's we've fled together, "His horsemen hard behind us ride; Outspoke the hardy Highland wight, It is not for your silver bright; "And by my word! the bonny bird So, though the waves are raging white, |