In time I hope to be able to furnish you with other specimens of our
curious ancient oaths.
W.H.H.
* * * * *
SONNET.
(_For the Mirror_.)
Whose heart is not delighted at the sound
Of rural song, of Nature's melody,
When hills and dales with harmony rebound,
While Echo spreads the pleasing strains around,
Awak'ning pure and heartfelt sympathy!
Perchance on some rude rock the minstrel stands,
While his pleased hearers wait entranced around;
Behold him touch the chords with fearless hands,
Creating heav'nly joys from earthly sound.
How many voices in the chorus rise,
And artless notes renew the failing strains;
The honest boor his vocal talent tries,
Approving love beams from his "fair one's eyes,"
While age, in silent joy, forgets its pains.
J.J.
* * * * *
THE DEATH OF SALADIN.[9]
[9] For the particulars of which, see Knolle's "history of the Turks."
(_For the Mirror._)
The angel of death hath too surely prest
His fatal sign on the warrior's breast--
Quench'd is the light of the eagle-eye,
And the nervous limbs rest languidly--
The eloquent tongue is silent and still,
The deep clear voice again may not chill
The hearers' hearts with its own deep thrill.
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