England forgot her deeds of battle done; France blushed at "glory" gained in fields of gore; When that alliance holy and sincere CHARLES MACKAY. THE VICTORIOUS CITY*. When in Rome's proud days of greatness, stubborn nations bowed and fell 'Neath the strong arm of her people, one small city conquer'd well; Conquer'd all Rome's pride and wisdom, triumph'd o'er her soldier' might, Over senators and consul, by the simple force of right. Once from fierce and sharp encounter, conquering had the legions come, When amid the chained captives, some were found from Tusculum: * See Livy, Book vi. Chap. 25, 26. Then with fury burned Camillus-"What! is Tusculum our foe? Let the senate give the order-soon we'll lay the rebels low!" Large and powerful was the army, that rode out with fire and sword, To scatter war's destructive rage through the country all abroad; Brightly gleam'd their brazen armour, loud and long their trumpets bray'd, As they near'd the peaceful borders-in his pride the war-horse neigh'd. But no sign or preparation for the conflict found they there, In the meadows dozed the cattle, and the tiller plied the share; All the city gates stood open, and from thence a whiterobed throng Brought forth presents for the army, singing as they came along. Wonder-stricken stood the Romans, gazing on the peaceful scene; Forward then, the city entered; still no armed force was seen, Every shop and mart was open, and along each busy street Pass'd the buyer and the seller, friend and foe each other greet. From the school rooms rose a burring, rose the hum of childhood's voice; As they conn'd aloud their lessons, fearless were those girls and boys; To the Senate-house the Consul passed along with eager tread, Found the peaceful gowned Fathers free from all war's symbols dread. "Ye have conquered-ye have conquered!" brave Camillus cried aloud, "Ye have found the only weapons, to which Rome has ever bow'd; "Gladly do I grant permission for you now to Rome to go, "Plead your cause before her Senate-prove yourselves no treacherous foe." PH. COLBORNE. EARTH'S ANGELS. Why come not spirits from the realms of glory The times of sacred writ and ancient story? Is heaven more distant? or has earth grown cold? Oft have I gazed, when sunset clouds, receding, And oft, when midnight stars, in distant chillness, To Bethlem's air was their last anthem given, And are they all within the veil departed? There gleams no wing along the empyrean now; And many a tear from human eyes has started, Since angel touch has calmed a mortal brow. No; earth has angels, though their forms are moulded But of such clay as fashions all below ; Though harps are wanting, and bright pinions folded, We know them by the love-light on their brow. I have seen angels by the sick one's pillow; Theirs was the soft tone and the soundless tread; Where smitten hearts were drooping like the willow, They stood "between the living and the dead." And if my sight, by earthly dimness hindered, I doubted not-for spirits know their kindred- There have been angels in the gloomy prison In crowded halls-by the lone widow's hearth; And where they passed, the fallen hath uprisenThe giddy paused—the mourner's hope had birth. I have seen one whose eloquence commanding And by his side there moved a form of beauty, O, many a spirit walks the world unheeded, ANON. D |