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And mellowing echo, on watch in the skies,
Like a voice from some loftier climate replies.
With wide-branching antlers a guard to his breast,
There lies the wild creature, even stately in rest,
'Mid the grandeur of nature, composed and serene,
And proud in his heart of the mountainous scene,
He lifts his calm eye to the eagle and raven,
At noon sinking down on smooth wings to their haven,
As if in his soul the bold animal smiled
To his friends of the sky, the joint heirs of the wild.

Yes ! fierce looks thy nature, ev'n hush'd in reposeIn the depth of tay desert regardless of foes. Thy bold antlers call on the hunter afar With a haughty defiance to come to the war! No outrage is war to a creature like thee! The bugle horn fills thy wild spirit with glee, As thou bearest thy neck on the wings of the wind, And the laggardly gaze-hound is toiling behind. In the beams of thy forehead that glitter with death, In feet that draw power from the touch of the heath, In the wide-raging torrent that lends thee its roar, In the cliff that once trod must be trodden no more,Thy trust—'mid the dangers that threaten thy reign ! - But what if the stag on the mountain be slain ? On the brink of the rock-lo! he standeth at bay, Like a victor that falls at the close of the dayWhile hunter and hound in their terror retreat From the death that is spurn'd from his furious feet : And his last cry of anger comes back from the skies, As nature's fierce son in the wilderness dies. High life of a hunter! he meets on the bill The new-waken'd daylight, so bright and so still ;

And feels, as the clouds of the morning unroll,
The silence, the splendour, ennoble his soul.
'Tis his o'er the mountaias to stalk like a ghost,
Enshrouded with mist, in which nature is lost,
Till he lifts up his eyes, and flood, valley, and height,
In one moment all swim in an ocean of light;
While the sun, like a glorious banner unfurl'd,
Seems to wave o'er a new, more magnificent world.
'Tis his-by the mouth of some cavern his seat-
The lightning of heaven to hold at his feet,
While the thunder below him that growls from the

cloud, To him comes an echo more awfully loud. When the clear depth of noontide, with glittering

motion, O'erflows the lone glens-an aerial oceanWhen the earth and the heavens, in union profound, Lie blended in beauty that knows not a soundAs his eyes in the sunshiny solitude close 'Neath a rock of the desert in dreaming repose, He sees, in his slumhers, such visions of old As his wild Gaelic songs to his infancy told ; O'er the mountains a thousand plumed hunters are

borne, And he starts from his dream at the blast of the horn. Yes! child of the desert! fit quarry were thou For the hunter that came with a crown on his brow,By princes attended with arrow and spear, In their white-tented camp, for the warfare of deer. In splendour the tents on the green summit stood, And brightly they shove from the glade in the wood, And, silently built by a magical spell, The pyramid rose in the depth of the dell.

All mute was the palace of Lochy that day,
When the king and his nobles—a gallant array-
To Gleno or Glen-Etive came forth in their pride,
And a hundred fierce stags in their solitude died.
Not lonely and single they pass'd o'er the height-
But thousands swept by in their hurricane-flight;
And bow'd to the dust in their trampling tread
Was the plumage on many a warrior's head.
-"Fall down on your faces !—the herd is at hand!”
-And onward they came like the sea o'er the sand;
Like the snow from the mountain when loosen'd by rain,
And rolling along with a crash to the plain ;
Like a thunder-split oak-tree, that falls in one shock,
With his hundred wide arms from the top of the rock,
Like the voice of the sky when the black cloud is near,
So sudden, so loud, came the tempest of Deer.
Wild mirth of the desert! fit pastime for kings !
Which still the rude Bard in his solitude sings.
Oh reign of magnificencel vanish'd for ever!
Like music dried up in the bed of a river,
Whose course hath been changed ! yet my soul can

survey
The clear cloudless morn of that glorious day.
Yes! the wide silent forest is loud as of yore,
And the far-ebbed grandeur rolls back to the shore.
I wake from my trance !-lo! the sun is declining !
And the Black-mount afar in his lustre is shining.
-One soft golden gleam ere the twilight prevail !
Then down let me sink to the cot in the dale,
Where sings the fair maid to the viol so sweet,
Or the floor is alive with her white twinkling feet,
Down, down like a bird to the depth of the dell !
- Vanish'd creature! I bid thy fair image farewell !

SHALL A LIGHT WORD PART US?

MRS. NORTON.

We have been friends together,
In sunshine and in shade;
Since first beneath the chestnut trees
In infancy we play'd.
But coldness dwells within my heart,
A cloud is on my brow;
We have been friends together-
Shall a light word part us now?

We have been gay together ;
We have laugh'd at little jests;
For the fount of hope was gushing
Warm and joyous in our breasts.
But laughter now hath fled thy lip,
And sullen glooms thy brow ;
We have been gay together-
Shall a light word part us now?

We have been sad together,
We have wept with bitter tears,
O'er the grass-grown graves,

where slumher'd
The hopes of early years.
The voices which are silent there
Would bid thee clear thy brow;
We have been sad together-
Oh! what shall part us now?

THE TREASURES OF THE DEEP.

MRS. HEMANS.

What hid'st thou in thy treasure-caves and cells ?

Thou hollow-sounding and mysterious main ! Pale glistening pearls, and rainbow-coloured shells,

Bright things which gleam unreck'd of and in vain. Keep, keep thy riches, melancholy sea !

We ask not such from thee.

Yet more, the depths have more l-What wealth untold

Far down, and shining through their stillness, lies ! Thou hast the starry gems, the burning gold,

Won from ten thousand royal Argosies. Sweep o'er thy speils, thou wild and wrathful main !

Earth claims not these again !

Yet more, the depths have more! Thy waves have rollid

Above the cities of a world gone by! Sand hath fill'd up the palaces of old,

Sea-weed o'ergrown the halls of revelry! Dash o'er them, Ocean! in thy scornful play,

Man yields them to decay!

Yet more! the billows and the depths have more !

High hearts and brave are gather'd to thy breast ! They hear not now the booming waters roar,

The battle-thunders will not break their rest. Keep thy red gold and gems, thou stormy grave

Give back the true and brave !

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