THE ARMY OF THE CROSS.

The story of thy knightly faith,
As ages roll along,

Shall lighten o'er the poet's page,
And wake the minstrel's song.
Ayto the tale of high emprize,
The daring deed and bold,
The spirit wakes as wildly now
As in those days of old!

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233

THE TREASURED HARP.

BY JAMES T.

FIELD S.

ALL the splendid furniture of his late residence had been sold except his wife's harp. That, he said, was too closely associated with the idea of herself; it belonged to the little story of their loves; for some of the sweetest moments of their courtship were those when he had leaned over that instrument and listened to the melting tones of her voice. - IRVING'S SKETCH BOOK.

Go, leave that harp! twined round its strings
There's many a magic spell;

Leave that untouched, the strain it brings
This heart remembers well.

It hath a power, though all unstrung
It lies neglected now,

And from her hands 't will ne'er be wrung,
Till death these limbs shall bow!

It hath no price since that sweet hour
She tuned it first, and played
Love's evening hymn within the bower,
Her youthful fingers made.

A spirit like a summer's night

Hangs o'er that cherished lyre,
And whispers of the calm moonlight
Are trembling from the wire.

Still on my ear her young voice falls,
Still floats that melody:

On each loved haunt its music calls:
Go! leave that harp and me.

LOVEWELL'S FIGHT.

BY JOHN FARMER.

IN May, 1725, Capt. John Lovewell, with thirty-four men, while pursuing their march to the northward, with the design of attacking the Indian villages of Pigwacket, on the upper part of Saco River, came to a pond situated in the township of Fryeburg, Me., fifty miles from any English settlement, and twenty-two from the fort on Ossipee Pond, where they encamped. Early the next morning, while at their devotions, they heard the report of a gun, and discovered a single Indian, standing on a point of land which runs into the pond, more than a mile distant. They had been alarmed the preceding night by noises round their camp, which they imagined were made by Indians, and this opinion was now strengthened. They suspected that the Indian was placed there to decoy them, and that a body of the enemy was in their front. A consultation being held, they determined to march forward, and by encompassing the pond, to gain the point where the Indian stood; and that they might be ready for action, they disencumbered themselves of their packs, and left them without a guard, at the north-east end of the pond, in a pitch-pine plain, where the trees were thin, and the brakes, at that time of the year, small. It happened that Lovewell's march had crossed a carrying place, by which two parties of Indians, consisting of forty-one men, commanded by Paugus and Wahwa, who had been scouting down Saco River, were returning to the lower village of Pigwacket, distant about a mile and a half from this pond. Having fallen on his track,

they followed it till they came to the packs, which they removed; and counting them, found the number of his men to be less than their own: they therefore placed themselves in ambush to attack them on their return. The Indian who had stood on the point, and was returning to the village by another path, met them and received their fire, which he returned, and wounded Capt. Lovewell and another, with small shot. Lieut. Wyman, firing again, killed him, and they took off his scalp. Seeing no other enemy, they returned to the place where they had left their packs, and while they were looking for them, the Indians rose and ran toward them with horrid yelling. A smart firing now commenced on both sides, it being now about ten of the clock. Capt. Lovewell and eight more were killed on the spot. Lieut. Farwell and two others were wounded. Several of the Indians fell; but being superior in number, they endeavored to surround the party, who, perceiving their intention, retreated; hoping to be sheltered by a point of rocks which ran into the pond, and a few large pine-trees standing on a sandy beach. In this forlorn place they took their station. On their right was the mouth of a brook, at that time unfordable; on their left was the rocky point; their front was partly covered by a deep bog, and partly uncovered, and the pond was in their rear. The enemy galled them in front and flank, and had them so completely in their power, that had they made a prudent use of their advantage, the whole company must either have been killed, or obliged to surrender at discretion, being destitute of a mouthful of sustenance, and escape being impracticable. Under the conduct of Lieut. Wyman, they kept up their fire, and showed a resolute countenance, all the remainder of the day; during which their chaplain, Jonathan Fry, Ensign Robbins, and one more, were mortally wounded. The Indians invited them to surrender, by holding up ropes to them, and endeavoring to intimidate them by their hideous yells; but they determined to die rather than yield; and by their well-directed fire, the number of the savages was