ales.
Dead! Where the ocean's roll
Sobs for the passing soul.
Dead! Dead! Ah!--Dead to me.

Dead! Where the thicket's throats
Mingle their million notes.
Dead! Where the forests dim
Tone their lone requiem.
Dead! Dead! Ah!--Dead to me.

Dead! Where the eagle's scream
Shortens the hunter's dream.
Dead! Where the nightingale
Trills out her lonely tale.
Dead! Dead! Ah!--Dead to me.

Dead! Where no maiden fair
Weaves with his waving hair.
Dead! Where no darling sips
Life from his loving lips.
Dead! Dead! Ah!--Dead to me.

Dead! Where no woman's breast,
Robbed of her love and rest,
Flower with a fading leaf,
Sinks in her silent grief.
Dead! Dead! Ah!--Dead to me.

Dead! Nevermore to be.
Dead! Nevermore to be.
Dead! Evermore to me.
Dead! Evermore to me.
Dead! Dead! Ah!--Dead to ME!

WEEP NOT FOR HIM.

Weep not for him who, in the battle dying,
Lives in the lays of those he sought to save;
Weep not for him who on the cold turf lying,
Finds in his native land a patriot's grave;
Weep not for him for whom the night wind, sighing,
Spreads o'er his bier the banner of the brave;
But, o'er the ashes of the dead hussar,
Shout to the thunder and the trump of war.

Go weep for her who, by her Love's side sighing,
Gives to the grave the form she loved so well;
And weep for her who meets no soft replying
To the sweet story she would die to tell;
Aye, weep for her whose Love, to Lethe flying,
Left on her lip no mark of his farewell;
Oh, weep for her whose star of life is dim;
Weep, weep for her; but weep no more for him.

TARRY YE NOT IN EGYPT.

The Lord is wroth with Pharaoh's men,
Tarry ye not in Egypt!
He hath raised His strong arm to smite furrow and fen,
And he'll smite them and smite them again and again.
Tarry ye not,
Tarry ye not,
Tarry ye not in Egypt!
The Lord is wroth with Pharaoh's men,
He hath raised His strong arm to smite furrow and fen,
And he'll smite them and smite them again and again,
So tarry no longer in Egypt.

The Lord hath set His sign in the sky,
Tarry ye not in Egypt!
And all the first-born in the land shall die,
The fathers shall perish, the mothers shall sigh.
Tarry ye not,
Tarry ye not,
Tarry ye not in Egypt!
The Lord hath set His sign in the sky,
And all the first-born in the land shall die;
The fathers shall perish, the mothers shall sigh,
So tarry no longer in Egy