He hath won the wreath of bay;
To the shining crown of his fair renown-
He hath added another ray;

He hath drawn his sword for England;

He hath fought for her spotless name;
And the isle resounds to her farthest bounds
With her gray-haired hero's fame.

In the ears of the craven monarch,
Oft must this burthen ring-

Though the crown be thine and the royal line, He is in heart thy king !"

So they gave this graceful honour
To the bold De Courcy's race,

That they ever should dare their helms to wear

Before the king's own face:

And the sons of that line of heroes

To this day their right assume; For, when every head is unbonneted. They walk in cap and plume!

Abou ben Adhem and the Angel.

Abou ben Adhem, may his tribe increase !
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An Angel writing in a book of gold:
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And to the presence in the room he said,
What writest thou? The vision raised its head,
And with a look, made of all sweet accord,
Answered-The names of those that love the Lord.
And is mine, one said Abou? Nay, not so,
Replied the Angel, Abou spake more low,

But cheerly still, and said, I pray thee then
Write me, as one that loves his fellow men.
The Angel wrote and vanished. The next nigh
It came again, with a great waking light,
And showed the names whom love of God had ы
And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest!

The Snow Flake.

"Now, if I fall will it be my lot
To be cast in some low and lonely spot.
To melt, and to sink unseen or forget ?

And then will my course be ended?"
'Twas thus a feathery snow flake said,
As down through the measureless space it strayed
Or, as half by dalliance, half afraid,

It seemed in mid air suspended
"Oh, no," said the Earth, " thou shalt not lie,
Neglected and lone, on my lap to die,
Thou pure and delicate child of the sky;

For thou wilt be safe in my keeping:
But then I must give thee a lovelier form;
Thou'lt not be a part of the wintry storm ;
But revive when the sunbeams are yellow and war

And the flowers from my bosom are peeping.

"And then thou shalt have thy choice to be
Restored in the lily that decks the lea,
In the jessamine bloom, the anemone,

Or aught of thy spotless whiteness;
To melt and be cast in a glittering bead,
With pearls that the night scatters over the mead,
In the cup where the bee and the firefly feed.
Regaining thy dazzling brightness.
"Or would'st thou return to a home in the skies,
To shine in the Iris, I'll let thee arise,

And appear in the many and glorious dyes
A pencil of sunbeams is blending.
But true fair thing, as my name is Earth,
I'll give thee a new and vernal birth,
When thou shalt recover thy primal worth,

And never regret descending !"
"Then I will drop," said the trusting flake;
"But bear in mind that the choice I make
Is not in the flowers, or the dew to awake,

Nor the mist that shall pass with the morning ;

For things of thyself they expire with thee;
But those that are lent from on high, like me,
They rise, and will live, from thy dust set free,

To the regions above returning.
"And if true to thy word, and just thou art,
Like the spirit that dwells in the holiest heart,
Unsullied by thee, thou wilt let me depart,
And return to my native heaven;
For I would be placed in the beautiful bow,
From time to time, in thy sight to glow,
So thou may'st remember the flake of snow,
By the promise that God hath given."

From "The Sensitive Plant."

A Sensitive Plant in a garden grew,
And the young winds fed it with silver dew,
And it opened its fan-like leaves to the light,
And closed them beneath the kisses of night.

And the spring arose on the garden fair,
Like the spirit of love felt everywhere;
And each flower and herb on earth's dark breast
Rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.

But none ever trembled and panted with bliss
In the garden, the field, or the wilderness,
Like a doe in the noontide with love's sweet w
As the companionless Sensitive Plant.

The snowdrop, and then the violet,
Arose from the ground with the warm rain we
And their breath was mixed with fresh odour, se
From the turf, like the voice and the instrumen

Then the pied wind-flowers and the tulip tall, And narcissi, the fairest among them all, Who gaze on their eyes in the stream's recess Till they die of their own dear loveliness.

And the naid-like lily of the vale,
Whom youth makes so fair, and passion so pal
That the light of its tremulous bells is seen
Through their pavilions of tender green;

And the hyacinth purple, and white, and blue,
Which flung from its bells a sweet peal anew
Of music so delicate, soft, and intense,
It was felt like an odour within the sense.

And the rose like a nymph to the bath addrest,
Which unveiled the depth of her glowing breast
Till fold after fold. to the fainting air
The soul of her beauty and love lay bare.

And the wand-like lily, which lifted up,
As a maenad, its moonlight coloured cup,
Till the fiery star, which is its eye,
Gazed through clear dew on the tender sky;

And the jessamine faint, and the sweet tuberose,
The sweetest flower for scent that blows;
And all rare blossoms from every clime,
Grew in that garden in perfect prime.

And on the stream whose inconstant bosom
Was prankt under boughs of embowering blossom,
With golden and green light slanting through
Their heaven of many a tangled hue.

Broad water-lilies lay tremulously,

And the starry river-buds glimmered by, [dance And around them the soft stream did glide and With a motion of sweet sound and radiance.

And the sinuous paths of lawn and moss
Which led through the garden along and across,
Some open at once to the sun and breeze,
Some lost among bowers of blossoming trees,

Were all paved with daisies and delicate bells
As fair as the fabulous asphodels;
And flowrets which, drooping, as day drooped too,
Fell into pavilions, white, purple, and blue,
To roof the glow-worm from the evening dew.

And from this undefiled Paradise
The flowers (as an infant's awak'ning eyes
Smile on its mother, whose singing sweet
Can first lull, and at last must awaken it)

When heaven's blithe winds had unfolded them,
As mine-lamps enkindle a hidden gem
Shone smiling to heaven, and every one
Shared joy in the light of the gentle sun;