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FROM THE GERMAN 0 F BRUNCRER.

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FROM THE GERMAN 0 F BRUNCRER. I found the warrior on the plain, His eye was fixed, his har- I was chill, I Still bare his breas he life-blo' !'s stain, Tlv? blood was on his helme sti'l. I He died as hearts like his siiould die, In the hot clasp of victory! The eye was fix'd, but in its gaze Look'd the high soul; thecrirason'd brow Was cold, but life's departing rays Hac! lit it, with a warrioi"> glow The soul that from the tuit had fl.>wn, Would not have sought a prouder throne, I saw the lover's living shade Shiv'riug in summer's rosiest gale, The look of woe, the cheek decayed, The eye's dark brilliance sunk and pale. Rather than drag that life of pain, Give me the sword. strife, the plain, -ff-

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LONDON, MONDAY, DECEMBER 19.

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