at the time.

Such occasions afforded a kind of jubilee, as the money they brought was
soon put in circulation through the prisons, from whence it speedily
evaporated, being spent in provisions, vegetables, and fruits, brought
there by the country-people for sale, and for which an enormous price was
paid. Many of the men thus delivered up, had spent several years of the
prime of life in fighting the battles of a foreign nation, and were then
dismissed with the most brutal treatment. As an instance: a man by the
name of SLATER, a tall, robust man, just such an one as they like to get
hold of, in the service where he had been several years, had made frequent
but unavailing applications for a discharge. At length when the war broke
out, he made more urgent solicitations for a release. The answer was,
'Yes, you shall have it; but we will first give you something to remember
us by.' And tying him up, they gave him three dozen lashes, and sent him
to Dartmoor. Such was the reward of his services!

THE SONG OF DEATH.

I.

Silent and swift as the flight of Time,
I've come from a far and shadowy clime;
With brow serene and a cloudless eye,
Like the star that shines in the midnight sky;
I check the sigh, and I dry the tear;
Mortals! why turn from my path in fear?

II.

The fair flower smiled on my tireless way,
I paused to kiss it in summer's day,
That when the storm in its strength swept by
It might not be torn from its covert nigh;
I bear its hues on my shining wing,
Its fragrance and light around me cling.

III.

I passed the brow that had learned to wear
The crown of sorrow--the silver hair;
Weary and faint with the woes of life,
The tempest-breath and fever-strife,
The old man welcomed the gentle friend
Who bade the storm and the conflict end.

IV.

I looked where the fountains of gladness start,
On the love of the pure and trusting heart;
On the cheek like summer roses fair,
And the changeful light of the waving hair;
Earth had no cloud for her joyous eye,
But I saw the shade in the future's sky.

V.

I saw the depths of her spirit wrung,
The music fled, and the harp unstrung;
The love intense she had treasured there,
Like fragrance shed on the desert air:
I bore her to deathless love away;
Oh! why do ye mourn for the young to-day?

VI.

I paused by the couch where the poet lay,
Mid fancies bright on