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The Death of the Brave.
Farewell, thou fair day, thou green earth, and ye skies,

Now gay with the bright setting sun;
Farewell, loves and friendships, ye dear tender ties;

Our race of existence is run.

Thou grim king of terrors, thou life's gloomy foe,

Go, frighten the coward and slave;
Go, teach them to tremble, fell tyrant, but know

No terrors hast thou to the brave.

Thou strik'st the dull peasant, he sinks in the dark,

Nor saves e'en the wreck of a name;
Thou strik'st the young hero-a glorious mark -

He falls in the blaze of his fame.

In the field of proud honour, our swords in our hands,

Our king and our country to save,
While victory shines on life's last ebbing sands,
Oh, who would not rest with the brave?

MOORE.

On a Laurel beside a Fountain.

Rest thee beneath yon laurel's ample shade,

And quaff the limpid stream that issues there; So thy worn frame, for summer's toil repaid, May feel the freshness of the western air.

HODGSON (from the Greek Anthology). 'X 3'3 Pro Patria mori.

Candide lucis honor, tuqve O viridissuma tellus,

Qvodqve nites caelum sole cadente, vale : Vosqve, amor et pietas, socialia vincla, valete, Stat

prope iam rerum meta; peracta via est.

Vis horrenda mali, vitae teterruma labes,

Terribilis servo sis timidoqve licet : Fac per nos tremat ista cohors: sed fortia semper

Corda minas rident, Mors furiosa, tuas.

Tu petis agricolam crassum : petis, inqve tenebras

Nomine cum toto naufragus ille cadit. Tuqve heroa petis iuvenem: petis, inqve triumphis,

Luce fruens famae, splendida praeda, iacet.

Qvo vocat, imus, Honor, stricto decernere ferro

Pro patria et caro rege parata manus :
Dum vitae extremum victoria tempus inaurat,
Cum validis cui non dulce qviesse viris ?

G. B. M.

Ad Viatorem.

Huc ades, et lauri patula requiesce sub umbra,

Qvaeqve ruunt illinc flumina pura bibe; Sic qvoqve percipias, arenti fervidus aestu, Qvidqvid ab Hesperio flat geniale polo.

K.

A Rainy Day.

The day is cold and dark and dreary,
It rains, and the wind is never weary ;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall;

And the day is dark and dreary.

My life is cold and dark and dreary,
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,

And my days are dark and dreary.

Be still, sad heart, and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining :
Thy fate is the common fate of all;
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.

LONGFELLOW.

Charlie.

Over the water and over the lea,

And over the water to Charlie.
Charlie loves good ale and wine,

And Charlie loves good brandy
And Charlie loves a pretty lass,
As sweet as sugar-candy.

JACOBITE SONG.

Tempestas Caelum contraxit.

Horrida pallentem contristant frigora lucem,

Flabraqve cum pluviis inreqvieta suis. Vitis amans haeret muro, sed cuilubet aurae

Dat folia : et maestus flet sine sole dies. Et mihi pallentem contristant frigora vitam,

Flabraqve cum pluviis inreqvieta suis. Praeterito meus haeret amor, sed qvaeqve iuventae

Spes perit: et maesti flent sine sole dies. Disce tacere tamen, cor flebile, mitte qverelas ;

Invida sol ultra nubila lucet adhuc. Sors tua communis mundi: sua cuiqve procella ; Cuiqve suus qvondam flet sine sole dies.

K.

Carolus.

Nos per alta, nos per arva,
Nos per alta qvaeritemus
Carolum desideratum.
Carolo sunt firma cordi
Pocla Cereris et Lyaei,
Caroloqve qvae Lyaeo
Qvaeqve Cerere firmiora :
Caroloqve nympha bella,
Tota mel merumqve nectar.

K.

Star after Star decays.

How oft has the Benshee cried ;
How oft has Death untied
Bright links that Glory wove,

Sweet bonds entwined by Love!
Peace to each manly soul that sleepeth;
Rest to each faithful eye that weepeth ;

Long may the fair and brave
Sigh o'er the hero's grave!

We've fallen upon gloomy days,
Star after star decays;
Every bright name that shed

Light o'er the land is fled.
Dark falls the tear of him who mourneth
Lost joy or hope that ne'er returneth;

But brightly flows the tear
Wept o'er a hero's bier.

Oh, quenched are our beacon-lights :
Thou of the hundred fights ;
Thou on whose burning tongue

Truth, peace, and freedom hung;
Both mute: but long as valour shineth,
Or mercy's soul at war repineth,

So long shall Erin's pride
Tell how they lived and died.

MOORE.

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