prisoned for nine months in Dublin, afterward edited the "Irishman," and in October, 1849, being implicated in an insurrectionary movement in Tipperary, fled to America. He was for three years connected with the New Orleans "Delta," and died in that city in May, 1857. Ode on the Centenary of Burns. Page 229. Miss CRAIG'S ode, which bore off the prize, offered by the directors of the Crystal Palace Company, from more than six hundred competitors, is one of the few prize poems which have possessed any poetical merit. The Old Canoe. Page 247. All efforts to discover the authorship of this popular poem have been unavailing. It has been attributed to Albert Pike, but he disclaims it. Revelry in India. Page 256. These lines are said to have been sung by a company of British officers stationed at a frontier post in India during a pestilence. It is also said that the author of them was the next victim. The Countersign. Page 264. Concerning the authorship of "The Countersign," we only know that it was written by a private in Company G of Stuart's Engineers, at Camp Lesley, near Washington, during the first year of the Rebellion. It seems too good to have been a first poem ; but it is to be feared that the chances of war made it the last, as it has never been claimed. Sherman's March to the Sea. Page 265. Adjutant BYERS, Fifth Iowa Infantry, wrote this song while a prisoner at Columbia, S. C. General Sherman, to whom a copy of the lines was handed when he arrived at that place, so admired them that he sent for the author and attached him to his staff. A cloud lay cradled near the setting sun 114 119 "All quiet along the Potomac," they say 263 Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight . 224 201 Busk ye, busk ye, my bonnie, bonnie bride 52 By Nebo's lonely mountain 249 Come a little nearer, Doctor,—thank you!—let me take the cup 234 Come see the Dolphin's anchor forged; 't is at a white heat now 146 Come to me, darling, I 'm lonely without thee 223 Dark lowers the night o'er the wide stormy main 94 Did you hear of the Widow Malone 153 England's sun was slowly setting, o'er the hills so far away Fair stood the wind for France Far in a wild, unknown to public view From the quickened womb of the primal gloom Goe, soule, the bodie's guest Hail, beauteous stranger of the grove! Happy the man who, void of cares and strife Harness me down with your iron bands Her suffering ended with the day. 253 10 37 177 2 87 51 32 204 179 36 How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood 115 Ho! why dost thou shiver and shake 85 I asked an aged man, with hoary hairs I can not eat but little meat 252 90 18 I fill this cup to one made up 138 I gaed to spend a week in Fife 142 I have a son, a little son, a boy just five years old I weigh not fortune's frown or smile 15 I wish I were where Helen lies 93 I would not live alway, I ask not to stay 128 My prime of youth is but a frost of care Mysterious Night! when our first parent knew 9 99 On a lone barren isle, where the wild roaring billow. 152 Only a baby small 226 Only waiting till the shadows 248 O say can you see, by the dawn's early light. 103 |