Volume Ii Part 2 (1/2)

Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried.

We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning.

No useless coffin inclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him.

Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow; But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.

We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed, And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow!

Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him,-- But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him.

But half of our heavy task was done When the clock struck the hour for retiring; And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing.

Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame, fresh and gory; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone-- But we left him alone with his glory!

CHARLES WOLFE.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SIR WALTER SCOTT.]

PIBROCH OF DONUIL DHU.

Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, Pibroch of Donuil, Wake thy wild voice anew, Summon Clan Conuil.

Come away, come away, Hark to the summons!

Come in your war array, Gentles and commons.

Come from deep glen, and From mountains so rocky; The war pipe and pennon Are at Inverlocky.

Come every hill plaid, and True heart that wears one, Come every steel blade, and Strong hand that bears one.

Leave untended the herd, The flock without shelter; Leave the corpse uninterred, The bride at the altar; Leave the deer, leave the steer, Leave nets and barges; Come with your fighting gear, Broadswords and targes.

Come as the winds come, when Forests are rended; Come as the waves come, when Navies are stranded; Faster come, faster come, Faster and faster, Chief, va.s.sal, page, and groom, Tenant and master.

Fast they come, fast they come; See how they gather!

Wide waves the eagle plume Blended with heather.

Cast your plaids, draw your blades, Forward each man set!

Pibroch of Donuil Dhu Knell for the onset!

SIR WALTER SCOTT.