THE DRUMMER-BOY'S BURIAL.

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THE DRUMMER-BOY'S BURIAL.

ALL day long the storm of battle through the startled valley swept; All night long the stars in heaven o'er the slain sad vigils kept.

Oh, the ghastly upturned faces gleaming whitely through the night! Oh, the heaps of mangled corses in that dim sepulchral light!

One by one the pale stars faded, and at length the morning broke ;
But not one of all the sleepers on that field of death awoke.

Slowly passed the golden hours of that long bright Summer day,
And upon that field of carnage still the dead unburied lay :

Lay there stark and cold, but pleading with a dumb, unceasing prayer, For a little dust to hide them from the staring sun and air.

But the foemen held possession of that hard-won battle-plain,
In unholy wrath denying even burial to our slain.

Once again the night dropped round them-night so holy and so calm, That the moonbeams hushed the spirit, like the sound of prayer or psalm.

On a couch of trampled grasses, just apart from all the rest,
Lay a fair young boy, with small hands meekly folded on his breast.

Death had touched him very gently, and he lay as if in sleep;
E'en his mother scarce had shuddered at that slumber calm and deep.

For a smile of wondrous sweetness lent a radiance to the face,
And the hand of cunning sculptor could have added naught of grace

To the marble limbs so perfect in their passionless repose,
Robbed of all save purest beauty by the hard unpitying foes.

And the broken drum beside him all his life's short story told :
How he did his duty bravely till the death-tide o'er him rolled.
Midnight came with ebon garments and a diadem of stars,
While right upward in the zenith hung the fiery planet Mars.

Hark! a sound of stealthy footsteps, and of voices whispering low—
Was it nothing but the young leaves, or the brooklet's murmuring flow?

Clinging closely to each other, striving never to look round

As they pass with silent shudder the pale corses on the ground,

Came two little maidens-sisters-with a light and hasty tread,
And a look upon their faces, half of sorrow, half of dread.

And they did not pause nor falter till with throbbing hearts they stood,
Where the drummer-boy was lying in that martial solitude.

They had brought some simple garments from their wardrobe's scanty store,

And two heavy iron shovels in their slender hands they bore.

Then they quickly knelt beside him, crushing back the pitying tears,
For they had no time for weeping, or for any girlish fears.

And they robed the icy body, while no glow of maiden shame
Changed the pallor of their foreheads to a flush of lambent flame.

For their saintly hearts yearned o'er it in that hour of sorest need,
And they felt that death was holy and it sanctified the deed.

But they smiled and kissed each other when their new, strange task was o'er,

And the form that lay before them its unwonted garments wore.

Then with slow and weary labour a small grave they hollowed out,
And they lined it with the grass and withered leaves that lay about.
But the day was slowly breaking ere their holy work was done,
And in crimson pomp the morning heralded once more the sun.

Then laid those little maidens-they were children of our foes-
The body of our Drummer-boy to undisturbed repose.

A SEA VOYAGE.

A SEA VOYAGE.

THE sun rides high, the tide is flowing,
Come plough the deep sea!
The sky-born breeze is briskly blowing,
Come plough the deep sea!
Surge chases surge with rival glee,
The white-winged skiffs shoot o'er the sea;
For the wide waves are free,

The wide waves are free,

The waves of the surging sea!

The captain calls, "Now all is ready!"
Hoist sails and away,

"Come, bear a hand, helm starboard, steady,
Now bravely away!

377

We've cleared the Ness, and now we ride
The ancient green untainted tide ;

For the wide waves are free,

The wide waves are free,

The waves of the surging sea!

Ha! like a steed the good ship prances,

Hoist royals, huzza!

Behold how mad the light wave dances,
Hoist sky-sails, huzza!

The sea-mews duck and dive with glee,
The porpoise rolls in revelry ;

For the wide waves are free,

The wide waves are free,

The waves of the surging sea!

Ha! how the crested waves are booming!
Blow stiffly, breeze, blow!

How yonder far east land is looming!
Blow stiffly, breeze, blow!

Reef, reef the sails! a blast! a blast!
"Helm larboard !"-steady! helmsman, fast!
For the wide waves are free,

The wide waves are free,

The waves of the surging sea!

Now gently, gently !—slow but surely!

Now make for the land!
Yon bonnie harbour blinks securely;
The land, now the land!

We've cleared the point, the landsmen hail,
We bear along with gallant sail;

For the wide waves are free,
The wide waves are free,

The waves of the surging sea!

J. S. BLACKIE.

HURRAH! for the mighty engine,
As he bounds along his track;
Hurrah, for the life that is in him

And his breath so thick and black.
And hurrah for our fellows, who in their need
Could fashion a thing like him-
With a heart of fire, and a soul of steel,
And a Samson in every limb.

Ho! stand from that narrow path of his,
Lest his gleaming muscles smite,

Like the flaming sword the archangel drew
When Eden lay wrapp'd in night;