680 LAY OF THE HIRELING LEADER. 



master and her bridegroom, with whom he was intimate, sent the latter the 

 following well-meant congratulatory epistle. (ED.) 



" My Dear Joseph. Friday Morning. 



Nothing could have given me so exquisite a treat as the sight of your wife's 

 CAKE. Something was whispered, but when I met you on Monday I had no 

 idea that you were the individual CONCERNED ! I congratulate you most invo- 

 luntarily, on your cannibal career of judicious matrimony for in Fanny you 

 possess a gem of the purest water I speak from ocular experience, having 

 long been her paternal father's sole PUPIL I may even say the apple of his 

 eye. So pure do her beams of virtue shine, that not even the scandalous 

 tongue of slander cannot propagate no not one unvirtuous tale against her 

 FOR envy like a sore eye is only troubledby that which is bright ! I shall conclude 

 by subscribing myself your true friend, and therefore, most sincerely wishing 

 that you may live together, until life shall become irksome to you both / Your's 

 affectionately," &c. &c. 



LAY OF THE HIRELING LEADER. 



I COME with a fame-forcing sword, 



Which many a life hath sped, 

 Of a triumphant troop the Lord, 



Mid death and danger bred 

 Careering in my banner's track, 



Half reckless if it waves 

 O'er harried holds, mid spoil and sack, 



Or their own bloody graves. 



Who prates of native clime and king, 



And duty's sacred call ? 

 My kingless land lies withering 



Beneath a foreign thrall. 

 / cannot save her and to share 



Her bonds my soul disdains 

 Cowards may live and languish there, 



The heritors of chains. 



I know my requiem must be 



The curses of my kind, 

 I know, in foulest infamy 



My memory must be shrined. 

 Gramercy ! that the sting of shame 



Is powerless in the tomb ; 

 Gramercy ! that no flashing fame 



Can light the charnel's gloom ! 



Then welcome to my banner sheen 



My roan of polished jet 

 And, more than all, my falchion keen, 



That never failed me yet ! 

 And welcome to the storm the strife, 



The slaughter and the spoil, 

 Till, at one bound, my fiery life 



Escape from mortal coil ! 



W. G. A. 



