T

COLERAINE.

WAS the evening ere the battle of famous Waterloo,

And two warriors, side by side, looked on the water

blue;

The youngest spake, "I summoned you from our comrades' merry jest―

There's a heavy weight lies here, brother, a trouble in my

breast

And I've much to say to you that must be said to-night, For God has told me I shall fall to-morrow at the fight; And I know that you will ever be the soother of each pain

Are we not both from Erin, and both from dear Coleraine ?

"Nay, start not, Bryan; look not sad; I am not dying

now,

The breezes yet play freely round my warm and flushing

brow;

And my soul is strong and vigorous to bear the soldier's

part,

And the streams of life gush easily throughout my beating heart;

And I'm a Christian, brother, and not afraid of death, But there are loving ones who'll weep over my dying breath,

Though they will not see me fall among yon princely train,

For they are all in Ireland-in distant, fair Coleraine.

"I've a gentle wife, dear Bryan, you may remember her,

When we three in happy childhood so oft together were; When you return in honour convey these to her handSay they are letters come from one in a far and happy land;

There's a lock of hair, a portrait, they are tokens sad and true,

And she will weep o'er those with tear-drops not a few; But tell her also how I died--tell her that every vein Thrilled to the last for Ellen, young Ellen of Coleraine.

"I've an infant, Bryan, not a boy-I should not fear for him,

For his would be bright honour's path till wearying life grew dim,

And the world would call him brave in his daring, bold

career;

'Tis for a gentle daughter, dear brother, that I fear.

With her mother's winning loveliness, her father's spirit free,

O God in mercy guide her bark safe o'er life's rolling

sea.

O Bryan, she may deeply love one of the warrior train, And be left as I have left one-one in far-off Coleraine.

"Oh! Bryan, we are brethren by a strong and mystic tie; Say will you keep and nourish these till you lie down and die ?

You have often sighed o'er faithless ones; you know the heart will take

A blemish from the blight of Love, and bear it till it

break;

But now you'll have another charge, a young and joyous

thing,

Oh friend, dear friend, no scalding tear thus from your eye should spring,

You may see me never more, for among the crowded slain

You'll scarce remember Dermot, poor Dermot of Coleraine."

He had finished-in the morning the sounding trumpet pealed,

And these true ones fought like brave men on battle's gory field;

And many hours rolled swiftly by ere pressing foes gave

way

Before Britannia's banners and her troops of mighty

sway;

But it ended at the last, and the noble, young and brave,
The coward and the loving, lay in one fearful grave;
And Bryan with one bleeding wound traversed the cover'd
plain

To search for gallant Dermot, brave Dermot of Coleraine.

He searched among the living till hope's bright star had fled,

And a tear was on his cheek when he turned among the

dead;

But his sad task was not fruitless; he found his friend at

length,

The young and stately warrior struck down in manly strength;

And Bryan wept o'er him, who lay a corpse upon the

earth,

Far from his gentle kindred and the clime that gave him

birth;

He started-not in loneliness lay the soldier on the plain, For Ellen was with Dermot, fair Ellen of Coleraine.

Ah! she had journeyed wearily to gain the scene of strife, And she reached it to behold the soldier's ebbing life; And the arrows of Death met her as she knelt upon the sod,

And their faithful souls together reached the city of their

God;

And Bryan looked upon them, as they slept together there,

Life's streams gushed all around them, the gallant and the fair;

And the watcher moved the mantle and saw life among

the slain,

'Twas Dermot's infant daughter, good Dermot of Coleraine.

K

They were buried with the honours which crown a soldier's tomb,

And tear-drops not a few fell for their early doom;

And many an aged warrior sighed and turned away his face,

As Bryan bore the daughter to her parents' resting place. And days rolled by; a ship of war bore the victorious

home,

And a fair girl with a warrior together crossed the foam; They reached their native land in peace, from the battle and the main ;

But two were left in Waterloo, two wand'rers from Coleraine.

ON THE ARRIVAL OF THE "ETOWAH."

VER the waves, over the waves—

Over Ontario's breast!

On she moves to her destined port,
To this land of the West!

From the rocks of the olden clime she comes,
From the light of our cherished early homes;
First from their forests of masts she springs,
Like a young bird pluming her snowy wings;