Roams the majestic brute, in herds that shake Still this great solitude is quick with life. Myriads of insects, gaudy as the flowers They flutter over, gentle quadrupeds, And birds, that scarce have learned the fear of man, Are here, and sliding reptiles of the ground, Startlingly beautiful. The graceful deer Bounds to the wood at my approach. The bee, A more adventurous colonist than man, To his domestic hum, and think I hear The sound of that advancing multitude Which soon shall fill these deserts. From the ground 4 Comes up the laugh of children, the soft voice SONG OF MARION'S MEN. OUR band is few, but true and tried, Our leader frank and bold; The British soldier trembles When Marion's name is told. Our tent the cypress-tree; We know the forest round us, As seamen know the sea. We know its walls of thorny vines, Its safe and silent islands Within the dark morass. Wo to the English soldiery And they who stand to face us And they who fly in terror deem A mighty host behind, And hear the tramp of thousands Upon the hollow wind. Then sweet the hour that brings release From danger and from toil: We talk the battle over, And share the battle's spoil. The woodland rings with laugh and shout, As if a hunt were up, And woodland flowers are gathered To crown the soldier's cup. With merry songs we mock the wind And slumber long and sweetly Well knows the fair and friendly moon The glitter of their rifles, The scampering of their steeds." 'Tis life to guide the fiery barb Across the moonlight plain; 'Tis life to feel the night-wind That lifts his tossing mane. A moment in the British camp A moment-and away Back to the pathless forest, Grave men there are by broad Santee, For Marion are their prayers. With smiles like those of summer, Till we have driven the Briton, For ever, from our shore. THE ARCTIC LOVER. GONE is the long, long winter night; Look, my beloved one! How glorious, through his depths of light, Rolls the majestic sun! The willows, waked from winter's death, Give out a fragrance like thy breath The summer is begun! Ay, 'tis the long bright summer day: The loosened ice-ridge breaks away The smitten waters flash. Seaward the glittering mountain rides, While, down its green translucent sides, The foamy torrents dash. See, love, my boat is moored for thee, By ocean's weedy floor The petrel does not skim the sea More swiftly than my oar. |