THE GREEK SAILOR'S SONG.

'Tis morn, and the tempest no longer is foaming,
I've left my last kiss on my Haidee's cheek;
Then, far from the chains of the Mussulman roaming,
Let me seek the blue wave in my little caîque.

When high on the surge of the ocean I'm soaring, When sinks the proud ship 'midst the mariner's shriek, Unhurt by the tempest so fearfully roaring,

I glide lightly by in my little caîque.

I leave thee, my country! all blighted and lonely, Thy shores are defenceless, thy sons are all weak, But wherever I wander my heart shall bemoan thee, As I sing to the oar of my little caîque.

Though 'tis long since the name of the Helots has

perish'd,

Their spirit still lingers in every Greek:

Though blighted the hopes I so fondly have cherish'd, Yet liberty breathes in my little caîque.

Could our ancestors think while the Persian was flying, That their sons could look down on their chains and

be meek?

Could they think, while for freedom the Spartan was

dying,

That freedom would end in a little caîque?

My country! oh! how canst thou turn to that hour,
Nor hasten thy wrath on each despot to wreak?
Awake-and throw off the proud Ottoman's power,
Let Greece be as free as my little caîque!

TO MARY.

WHEN Time, or soon or late, has chang'd
The placid aspect of my brow;
Mary! from other ties estrang'd,

I'll cherish still my youthful vow.

Perchance in life's more sober hour,
When all our hopes are fix'd above;

Thy charms, sweet girl, may lose their power,
Yet think not then we cease to love.

Friendship shall every care beguile

When love can warm the heart no more;

And memory, waking with a smile,

Shall join us firmer than before.

And oft, when time our vows hath prov'd, We'll turn to those sweet hours of joy;

When both were loving and belov'd,

When thou wert fair, and I—a boy.

THE DEATH-BED.

CALM as the eve of parting day,
When beams its last expiring ray,
Fair Emma sinks by slow decay

To realms of endless harmony.

The

group

of friends so lov'd, so dear,

The father's sigh, the mother's tear,

Too truly told the hour was near

Of death approaching rapidly.

The outstretch'd hand, the lover's kiss,

The hopes of everlasting bliss,

That seek beyond the grave's abyss,

The raptures of Eternity: