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THE DEFEAT OF SISERA.

Their splendour is dimm'd in the blood of the slain-
They are rolling in Kishon's red tide to the main-
For the feast of the vulture in Taarack is spread,
And the kings of Canaan are strew'd with the dead.

The mother of Sisera looks out on high,

From the halls of her palace, for evening is nigh:

And the wine-cup is brimm'd, and the bright torches burnAnd the banquet is piled, for the chieftain's return.

She cries to her maidens-"Why comes not my son?

Is the combat not o'er, and the battle not won?

The steeds of Canaan are many and strong,
Why tarry the wheels of his chariot so long?"

She saith in her heart-yea, her wise maidens say—
"He taketh the spoil-he divideth the prey-

He seizeth the garment of glittering dyes,
And maketh the daughters of beauty his prize!"

But Sisera's mother shall view him no more;
With the warriors of Hazor he sleeps in his gore-
And the bear and the lion his coursers consume
And the beak of the eagle is digging his tomb.

And the owl and the raven are flapping their wings-
And their death-song is heard in the chambers of kings:
For the sword of the Lord and of Israel lowers
O'er Sisera's palace, and Jabin's proud towers.

J. O'CALLAGHAN.

Where is He?

AND where is he? Not by the side

Of her whose wants he loved to tend; Not o'er those valleys wandering wide, Where sweetly lost, he oft would wend! That form beloved he marks no more;

Those scenes admired no more shall see

Those scenes are lovely as before,

And she as fair-but where is he?

No, no, the radiance is not dim

That used to gild his favourite hill; The pleasures that were dear to him, Are dear to life and nature still: But ah! his home is not so fair, Neglected must his garden beThe lilies droop and wither there,

And seem to whisper, where is he?

His was the pomp, the crowded hall!

But where is now the proud display?

His riches, honours, pleasures, all

Desire could frame: but where are they?

And he as some tall rock that stands

Protected by the circling sea,

Surrounded by admiring bands,

Seemed proudly strong-and where is he?

WHERE IS HE?

The churchyard bears an added stone,
The fireside shows a vacant chair!
Here sadness dwells and weeps alone,

And death displays his banner there;
The life has gone, the breath has fled,
And what has been no more shall be;
The well-known form, the welcome tread,
Oh! where are they? and where is he?

NEELE.

Imitation of the Persian.

LORD! who are merciful as well as just,
Incline thine ear to me, a child of dust!
Not what I would, O Lord! I offer thee,
Alas! but what I can.

Father Almighty, who hast made me man,
And bade me look to heaven, for thou art there,

Accept my sacrifice and humble prayer.
Four things which are not in thy treasury

I lay before thee, Lord, with this petition:

My nothingness, my wants,

My sins, and my contrition.

SOUTHEY.

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