Hark to the Marshal's voice!

List to the Baron's call!

They quit the camp, with thundering tramp,

And pass the embattled wall

They march-portcullis, moat,

And rampart left behind—

Right on they move, while their shouts above Resound on the wings of the wind—

At the gates, the crosier'd priest
Breathes a Benedicite-

"Now Jesu Maria bless the March

"Of England's Chivalry

"And oh! may their goal, Jerusalem, "Their glorious guerdon be!"

THE MINSTREL'S ODE, IN "MORAY HALL:" A POETICAL ROMANCE.

WOMAN'S LOVE.

1.

O WOMAN! God's best gift to Man,
Whate'er his portion be;

His Magnet thou, throughout Life's span-
Still, still he turns to thee!

2.

When in the Arena of Debate,

He pleads his Country's cause,

The living Pillar of the State—
The Bulwark of her Laws,—

3.

Or when, at Honour's louder call,

In martial virtue strong,

He quits the joys of Hearth and Hall,

For the Field where warriors throng,

4.

Thou, Talisman, oft nerv'st his heart (Whate'er his post,) to rise

To deeds of loftier desert

Of hardier emprise!

5.

Throned on Ambition's proudest goal,
Or launched on Pleasure's Sea,

He finds to guard from storm or shoal

A Monitor in thee.

6.

When, worn with Care-when, whelm'd in Woe

His broken spirit grieves

O'er fond hopes shatter'd and laid low,

Like Autumn's wither'd leaves,

7.

Thou, with an Angel's arm divine,
(Friend of his Wintry Day!)
Clasp'st him-as Ivy tendrils twine
Some time-scathed column grey.

8.

When his ebbing Life draws near it's close, (Earth's battle-storms o'erpast,)

And the heart, that braved a thousand foes,

Yet quails before the last,

9.

When that parching thirst the tongue consumes

Which Lethe soon must slake,

And the weary Spirit her pinions plumes
Her final flight to take,

10.

How oft thy lips-ere Memory fails

And Nature sinks to rest

Have breathed a balm-more sweet than gales Of Araby the Blest!

11.

An Anodyne-the breast to ease,

With mortal death-throes riven

All redolent of joy and peace,

To lift the soul to Heaven!

12.

Oh! if, beneath yon vault, there be
One boon-all price above-

Perennial Fount of Sympathy-
It is pure Woman's Love!

THE SONG OF THE HOURIS; OR, SAFIE, THE PRIDE OF THE HAREM. 1

1.

WITH an eye such as ne'er was portray'd by Lavater,
In a miniature Eden, unsullied by Sin,
A Marguerite she shines, of celestial Water-
A Hebe, surpassing Heaven's loveliest daughter,
Whom a monarch might forfeit his sceptre to win.

2.

No poet, enwrapp'd in Pierian vision,

No painter, unless with a pencil divine, Not the art of Apelles, the tints of a Titian, Nor all the deep lore of the metaphysician

May the charms of her soul or her person enshrine.

(1) The above little Cantata is founded on a Mahometan Legend. According to the Turks, besides the Celestial Houris, there are certain heaven-born Nymphs, who may be styled Terrestrial Houris (being inhabitants of Earth for a brief period, but) whom no mortal may marry; as the hour of the nuptial ceremonies would prove to the betrothed bride the hour of dissolution: when she would be translated to Paradise by an instantaneous and painless death.