NOTES.

(1) Page 52, line 13.1

Certaminis gaudia-the expression of Attila, in his har angue to his army, previous to the battle of Chalons; given in Cassiodorus.

(2) Page 56, l. 9.

"The fiend's arch mock,

"To lip a wanton, and suppose her chaste."

Shakspeare.

OSCAR OF ALVA.*

A TALE.

HOW sweetly shines, thro' azure skies,
The lamp of Heav'n on Lora's shore;
Where Alva's hoary turrets rise,

And hear the din of arms no more.

2.

But, often, has yon rolling moon,
On Alva's casques of silver play'd;
And view'd, at midnight's silent noon,
Her chiefs in gleaming mail array'd.

3.

And, on the crimson'd rocks beneath,
Which scowl o'er ocean's sullen flow,
Pale in the scatter'd ranks of death,
She saw the gasping warrior low.

While many an eye, which ne'er again
Could mark the rising orb of day,
Turn'd feebly from the gory plain,
Beheld in death her fading ray.

The catastrophe of this tale was suggested by the story of "Jeronymo and Lorenzo," in the first volume of "The "American, or Ghost-Seer!" It also bears some resmblance to a scene in the third Act of " Macbeth."

5.

Once, to those eyes the lamp of Love,
They blest her dear propitious light;
But, now, she glimmer'd from above,
A sad funereal torch of night.

Faded is Alva's noble race,

6.

And gray her towers are seen afar; No more her heroes urge the chace, Or roll the crimson tide of war.

7.

But, who was last of Alva's clan ?
Why grows the moss on Alva's stone?
Her towers resound no steps of man,
They echo to the gale alone.

8.

And, when that gale is fierce and high,
A sound is heard in yonder hall,

It rises hoarsely through the sky,

And vibrates o'er the mouldering wall.

9.

Yes, when the eddying tempest sighs,
It shakes the shield of Oscar brave;
But, there no more his banners rise,
No more his plumes of sable wave.

10.

Fair shone the sun on Oscar's birth,
When Angus hail'd his eldest born;
The vassals round their chieftain's hearth,
Crowd to applaud the happy morn.

11.

They feast upon the mountain deer,
The Pibroch rais'd its piercing note,
To gladden more their Highland cheer,
The strains in martial numbers float.

12.

And they, who heard the war-notes wild, Hop'd that, one day, the Pibroch's strain Should play before the Hero's child,

While he should lead the Tartan train.

13.

Another year is quickly past,
And Angus hails another son,

His natal day is like the last,

Nor soon the jocund feast was done.

14.

Taught by their sire to bend the bow,
On Alva's dusky hills of wind;
The boys in childhood chas'd the roe,
And left their hounds in speed behind.

15.

But ere their years of youth are o'er,
They mingle in the ranks of war;
They lightly wield the bright claymore,
And send the whistling arrow far.

16.

Dark was the flow of Oscar's hair,
Wildly it stream'd along the gale;
But Allan's locks were bright and fair,
And pensive seem'd his cheek, and palç.