In men, in princes, put no trust;
Their breath goes forth, they turn to dust;
Then, fleeting like the flower of grass,
Perish their thoughts, their glories pass.

Thrice happy he whose heart can say
"The God of Jacob is my stay;
The Lord of Hosts my help shall be,
Who made the heaven, the earth, the sea.”

The Lord avenges the opprest,

He sends the wandering stranger rest;
The Lord unbinds the prisoner's chain,
He sets the fallen up again.

The Lord restores the blind to sight,

Gives strength to them that have no might;
The Lord relieves, in their distress,
The widow and the fatherless.

The Lord supplies the poor with food,
He loves to do the righteous good;
But for the wicked, in his wrath,
He turns destruction on their path.

The Lord shall reign for evermore,
Thy King, O Zion !-Him adore;
Let unborn generations raise

To God, thy God, the song of praise!

PSALM CXLVIII.

HERALDS of creation! cry,

-Praise the Lord, the Lord most high!

Heaven and earth! obey the call,

Praise the Lord, the Lord of all.

For He spake, and forth from night
Sprang the universe to light;
He commanded,-Nature heard,
And stood fast upon his word.

Praise Him, all ye hosts above!
Spirits perfected in love;

Sun and moon! your voices raise,
Sing, ye stars! your Maker's praise.

Earth! from all thy depths below,
Ocean's hallelujahs flow;

Lightning, vapour, wind, and storm,
Hail and snow, his will perform.
Vales and mountains! burst in song;
Rivers! roll with praise along;
Clap your hands, ye trees! and hail
God, who comes in every gale.

Birds! on wings of rapture, soar,

Warble at his temple-door;

Joyful sounds, from herds and flocks,
Echo back, ye caves and rocks!

Kings! your Sovereign serve with awe;
Judges! own his righteous law;
Princes! worship Him with fear;
Bow the knee, all people here!

Let his truth by babes be told,
And his wonders by the old;
Youths and maidens ! in your prime,
Learn the lays of heaven betime.

High above all height his throne,
Excellent his name alone;
Him let all his works confess!
Him let every being bless!

NARRATIVES.

FAREWELL TO WAR:

BEING A PROLOGUE TO

LORD FALKLAND'S DREAM," AND

66 ARNOLD DE WINKELRIED, OR THE PATRIOT'S PASS

WORD."

breath

PEACE to the trumpet !-no more shall
my
Sound an alarm in the dull ear of death,
Nor startle to life from the truce of the tomb
The relics of heroes, to combat till doom.
Let Marathon sleep to the sound of the sea,
Let Hannibal's spectre haunt Cannæ for me;
Let Cressy and Agincourt tremble with corn,
And Waterloo blush with the beauty of morn;
I turn not the furrow for helmets and shields,
Nor sow dragon's teeth in their old fallow fields;
I will not, as bards have been wont, since the flood,
With the river of song swell the river of blood,

-The blood of the valiant, that fell in all climes,
-The song of the gifted, that hallow'd all crimes,
-All crimes in the war-fiend incarnate in one;
War, withering the earth-war, eclipsing the sun,
Despoiling, destroying, since discord began,

God's works and God's mercies,-man's labours and man. Yet war have I loved, and of war have I sung,

With my heart in my hand and my soul on my tongue; With all the affections that render life dear,

With the throbbings of hope and the flutterings of fear, -Of hope, that the sword of the brave might prevail, -Of fear, lest the arm of the righteous should fail.

But what was the war that extorted my praise? What battles were fought in my chivalrous lays?

-The war against darkness contending with light; The war against violence trampling down right; -The battles of patriots, with banner unfurl'd, To guard a child's cradle against an arm'd world; Of peasants that peopled their ancestors' graves, Lest their ancestors' homes should be peopled by slaves. I served, too, in wars and campaigns of the mind; My pen was the sword, which I drew for mankind; -In war against tyranny throned in the West, -Campaigns to enfranchise the negro oppress'd; In war against war, on whatever pretence, For glory, dominion, revenge or defence, While murder and perfidy, rapine and lust, Laid provinces desolate, cities in dust.

Yes, war against war was ever my pride;
My youth and my manhood in waging it died,
And

age, with its weakness, its wounds, and its scars,
Still finds my free spirit unquench'd as the stars,
And he who would bend it to war must first bind
The waves of the ocean, the wings of the wind;
For I call it not war, which war's counsels o'erthrows,
I call it not war which gives nations repose;

"Tis judgment brought down on themselves by the proud, Like lightning, by fools, from an innocent cloud.

I war against all war ;-nor, till my pulse cease, Will I throw down my weapons, because I love peace, Because I love liberty, execrate strife,

And dread, most of all deaths, that slow death call'd life,
Dragg'd on by a vassal, in purple or chains,

The breath of whose nostrils, the blood in whose veins,
He calls not his own, nor holds from his God,
While it hangs on a king's or a sycophant's nod.

Around the mute trumpet,—no longer to breathe
War-clangours, my latest war-chaplets I wreathe,
Then hang them aloof on the time-stricken oak,
And thus, in its shadow, heaven's blessing invoke :-

"Lord God! since the African's bondage is o'er,
And war in our borders is heard of no more,
May never, while Britain adores Thee, again
The malice of fiends or the madness of men,
Break the peace of our land, and by villanous wrong
Find a field for a hero, a hero for song."

1831.

LORD FALKLAND'S DREAM.

A. D. 1643.

"Io vo gridando, Pace! pace! pace!"

PETRARCA, Canzone agli principi d'Italia,
Esortazione alla Pace, A. D. 1344.*

"In this unhappy battle (of Newbury) was slain the Lord Viscount Falkland, a person of such prodigious parts of learning and knowledge, of that inimitable sweetness and delight of conversation, of so flowing and obliging a humanity and goodness to mankind, and of that primitive simplicity and integrity of life, that if there were no other brand upon this odious and accursed war, than that single loss, it must be most infamous and execrable to all posterity.

'Turpe mori, post te, solo non posse dolore.'"

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"From the entrance into that unnatural war, his natural cheerfulness and vivacity grew clouded; and a kind of sadness and dejection stole upon him, which he had never been used to. After the King's return to Oxford, and the furious resolution of the two Houses not to admit any treaty for peace, those indispositions which had before touched him grew into a perfect habit of uncheerfulness; and he who had been so exactly easy and affable to all men, that his face and countenance was always present, and vacant to his company, and held any cloudness or less pleasantness of the visage a kind of rudeness or incivility, became on a sudden less communicable, and thence very sad, pale, and exceedingly affected with the spleen. In his clothes and habit, which he minded before with more neatness, and industry, and expense, than is usual to so great a soul, he was not only incurious, but too negligent; and in his reception of suitors, and the necessary and casual addresses to his place, (being then Secretary of State to King Charles,) so quick, and sharp, and severe, that there wanted not some men (strangers to his nature and disposition) who believed him proud and imperious, from which no mortal man was ever more free."

"When there was any overture or hope of peace he would be more erect and vigorous, and exceedingly solicitous to press any thing which he thought might

*“I go exclaiming, Peace! peace! peace!"-From PETRARCH's Canzone to the Princes of Italy, entitled "An Exhortation to Peace."