WOUNDED.

By heaven! the foeman may track me in blood,
For this hole in my breast is outpouring a flood.
No! no surgeon for me; he can give me no aid;
The surgeon I want is a pickaxe and spade.
What, Morris, a tear? Why, shame on you, man!
I thought you a hero; but since you began
To whimper and cry, like a girl in her teens,
By George! I don't know what the devil it means.

"Well! well! I am rough, 'tis a very rough life--
This life of a trooper--but yet I'm no fool!
I know a brave man and a friend from a foe;
And, boys, that you love me I certainly know.
But wasn't it grand,

When they came down the hill over sloughing and sand?
But we stood-did we not ?-like immovable rock,
Unheeding their balls and repelling their shock.
Did you mind the loud cry,
When, as turning to fly,

Our men sprang upon them determined to die?
Oh, wasn't it grand?

God help the poor wretches who fell in the fight;
No time was there given for prayers or for flight.

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They fell by the score, in the crush, hand to hand,
And they mingled their blood with the sloughing and sand.

"Good heavens! this bullet-hole gapes like a grave!

A curse on the aim of the traitorous knave!

Is there never a one of you knows how to pray?
Or speak for a man as his life ebbs away?

Pray! Pray!

"Our Father! our Father! why don't you proceed?
Can't you see I am dying! Great God, how I bleed!
Ebbing away! The light of day is turning to gray.
Pray! Pray!

"Our Father in Heaven-boys, tell me the rest,

While I stanch the hot blood from this hole in my breast.
There's something about a forgiveness of sin,

"Here, Morris, old fellow, get hold of my hand,
And, Wilson, my comrade--oh! wasn't it grand
When they came down the hill like a thunder-charged cloud,
And were scattered like mist by our brave little crowd?
Where's Wilson-my comrade-here, stoop down your head,
Can't you say a short prayer for the dying and the dead?"

"Christ-God, who died for sinners all,
Hear thou this suppliant wanderer's cry!
Let not e'en this poor sparrow fall

Unheeded by thy gracious eye;

Throw wide the gates to let him in,

And take him pleading to thine arms;
Forgive, O Lord, his life-long sin,

*And quiet all his fierce alarms."

"God bless you, my comrade, for singing that hymn,
It's the light in my path, when my sight has grown dim.
I am dying-bend down--till I touch you once more;
Don't forget me, old fellow-God prosper this war!
Confusion to our enemies!-keep hold of my hand—
And float our dear flag o'er a prosperous land."

I

DARKNESS.-BYRON.

HAD a dream, which was not all a dream.

The bright sun was extinguished, and the stars

Did wander, darkling, in the eternal space,

Rayless and pathless, and the icy earth.

Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air.

Morn came and went-and came, and brought no day,

And men forgot their passions, in the dread

Of this their desolation; and all hearts

Were chilled into a selfish prayer for light.

And they did live by watch-fires; and the thrones,
The palaces of crowned kings, the huts,

DARKNESS.

The habitations of all things which dwell,

Were burnt for beacons: cities were consumed,

And men were gathered round their blazing homes,
To look once more into each other's face.

Happy were those who dwelt within the eye
Of the volcanoes and their mountain torch.

A fearful hope was all the world contained:
Forests were set on fire; but, hour by hour,
They fell and faded, and the crackling trunks
Extinguished with a crash-and all was black.
The brows of men, by their despairing light,
Wore an unearthly aspect, as, by fits,

The flashes fell upon them. Some lay down,
And hid their eyes, and wept; and some did rest
Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smiled;
And others hurried to and fro, and fed

Their funeral piles with fuel, and looked up,

With mad disquietude, on the dull sky,

The pall of a past world; and then again,

With curses, cast them down upon the dust,

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And gnashed their teeth, and howled. The wild birds shrieked,
And, terrified, did flutter on the ground,

And flap their useless wings: the wildest brutes
Came tame and tremulous; and vipers crawled
And twined themselves among the multitude,
Hissing, but stingless-they were slain for food.

And War, which for a moment was no more,
Did glut himself again :-a meal was bought
With blood, and each sat sullenly apart,
Gorging himself in gloom: no love was left:
All earth was but one thought-and that was death,
Immediate and inglorious, and the pang

Of famine fed upon all entrails. Men

Died; and their bones were tombless as their flesh.
The meagre by the meagre were devoured.

Even dogs assailed their masters,-all save one,

And he was faithful to a corse, and kept

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DARKNESS.

The birds, and beasts, and famished men at bay,
Till hunger clung them, or the drooping dead
Lured their lank jaws: himself sought out no food,
But, with a piteous and perpetual moan,

And a quick, desolate cry, licking the hand
Which answered not with a caress-he died.

The crowd was famished by degrees. But two
Of an enormous city did survive,

And they were enemies. They met beside
The dying embers of an altar-place,

Where had been heaped a mass of holy things

For an unholy usage. They raked up,

And, shivering, scraped with their cold, skeleton hands,

The feeble ashes; and their feeble breath

Blew for a little life, and made a flame
Which was a mockery. Then they lifted
Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld

Each other's aspects--saw, and shrieked, and died;
Even of their mutual hideousness they died,
Unknowing who he was, upon whose brow
Famine had written Fiend.

The world was void:

The populous and the powerful was a lump,
Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless:
A lump of death, a chaos of hard clay.
The rivers, lakes, and ocean, all stood still,

And nothing stirred within their silent depths.

Ships, sailorless, lay rotting on the sea,

And their masts fell down piecemeal: as they dropped

They slept on the abyss, without a surge,——

The waves were dead: the tides were in their grave:
The moon, their mistress, had expired before:
The winds were withered in the stagnant air,
And the clouds perished: Darkness had no need

Of aid from them-she was the universe.

THE GLADIATOR.

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STILLNES

THE GLADIATOR.--CROLY.

TILLNESS reigned in the vast amphitheatre, and from the countless thousands that thronged the spacious inclosure, not a breath was heard. Every tongue was mute with suspense, and every eye strained with anxiety toward the gloomy portal, where the gladiator was momentarily expected to enter. At length the trumpet sounded, and they led him forth into the broad arena. There was no mark of fear upon his manly countenance, as, with majestic step and fearless eye, he entered. He stood there, like another Apollo, firm and unbending as the rigid oak. His fine proportioned form was matchless, and his turgid muscles spoke his giant strength.

"I am here," he cried, as his proud lip curled in scorn, " to glut the savage eyes of Rome's proud populace. Aye, like a dog you throw me to a beast; and what is my offence? Why, forsooth, I am a Christian. But know, ye cannot fright my soul, for it is based upon a foundation stronger than the adamantine rock. Know ye, whose hearts are harder than the flinty stone, my heart quakes not with fear; and here I aver, I would not change conditions with the blood-stained Nero, crowned though he be, not for the wealth of Rome. Blow ye your trumpet-I am ready."

The trumpet sounded, and a long, low growl was heard to proceed from the cage of a half-famished Numidian lion, situated at the farthest end of the arena. The growl deepened into a roar of tremendous volume, which shook the enormous edifice to its very centre. At that moment the door was thrown open, and the huge monster of the forest sprung from his den, with one mighty bound, to the opposite side of the arena. His eyes blazed with the brilliancy of fire, as he slowly drew his length along the sand, and prepared to make a spring upon his formidable antagonist. The gladiator's eye quailed not: his lip paled not; but he stood, immovable as a statue, waiting the approach of his wary foe.

At length, the lion crouched himself into an attitude for springing, and with the quickness of lightning, leaped full at the throat of the gladiator. But he was prepared for him, and bounding lightly on one side, his falchion flashed for a moment over his head, and in the next it was deeply dyed in the purple blood of