he surcoat, and knew the features of the
prince, they were struck with horror, and heart and hand failed them.
Theodomir endeavored in vain to rally them; they threw by their weapons
and fled; and they continued to fly, and the enemy to pursue and slay
them, until the darkness of the night. The Moslems then returned, and
plundered the Christian camp, where they found abundant spoil.

STANZAS TO E----.

Where the young mountain river
Springs for the far-off ocean;
Where the fresh leaflets quiver
With a delightful motion;
Oh! thither hie, and see
How Nature's youth doth tell of thee.

Where hang the sweet wild roses,
And the pale lilies drooping;
Where the violet reposes
'Neath young leaves o'er it stooping;
Oh! wander there, and see
How Nature's beauty speaks of thee.

Where the glad brook is bringing
Sweet music never dying;
Where the bright birds are singing,
And gentle winds are sighing;
Oh! thither go with me,
And list to Nature's song of thee.

Where ivy is entwining,
The stern tree's branch down-bending;
Where flowers are e'er combining
Their perfume, heaven-ascending;
Oh! roam thou there, and see
How Nature's love breathes but of thee.

BELISARIUS.

The trumpet's voice had stirred the sky,
And rustling banners waved on high;
The shouts of victory went up,
And wreaths of laurel crowned the cup
That flowed amid the festal halls,
Within the crowded city's walls;
Stern warriors came in long array
To grace the conqueror's pageant day:
Triumphant peeled the clarion's tone
And spears and glancing armor shone,
Mid the dust of thousands sweeping by,
Like meteors in a midnight sky.
They'd left behind their hosts of slain
Upon the far-off battle plain,
And brought the marks of conquest back;
Proud trophies glittered on their track:
Rich armor from the vanquished won,
Bright jewels glancing in the sun;
A captive monarch's golden throne,
And heaps of countless treasure shone;
But prouder, nobler spoils and high,
Adorned that mighty pageantry.
Reluctantly, with lofty form,
Like strong oaks blasted by the storm
But not bowed down, the captives came,
Their dark brows flushed with grief and shame;
And he, their sovereign, king no more,
In mockery the purple wore.
His the proud step, majestic mien,
The lip compressed and look serene
That mark a spirit strong an