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“Go back, ye wolves, to your dens," (he cried,)

"And tell the nations abroad,

"How the fiercest of your herd has died

"That slaughter'd the flock of God.

"Gather him bone by bone,

"And take with you o'er the flood

"The fragments of that avenging stone

"That drank his heathen blood.

"These are the spoils from Iona's sack,
"The only spoils ye shall carry back;
"For the hand that uplifteth spear or sword
"Shall be wither'd by palsy's shock,

"And I come in the name of the Lord

"To deliver a remnant of his flock."

A remnant was call'd together,

A doleful remnant of the Gael,

And the Saint in the ship that had brought him

hither

Took the mourners to Innisfail.

Unscathed they left Iona's strand,

When the opal morn first flush'd the sky,

For the Norse dropt spear, and bow, and brand,

And look'd on them silently;

Safe from their hiding-places came

Orphans and mothers, child and dame :

But alas! when the search for Reullura spread,

No answering voice was given,

For the sea had gone o'er her lovely head,

And her spirit was in Heaven.

THE TURKISH LADY.

'Twas the hour when rites unholy

Call'd each Paynim voice to prayer,

And the star that faded slowly

Left to dews the freshen'd air.

Day her sultry fires had wasted,

Calm and sweet the moonlight rose;

Ev'n a captive spirit tasted

Half oblivion of his woes.

Then 'twas from an Emir's palace
Came an Eastern lady bright:

She, in spite of tyrants jealous,

Saw and loved an English knight.

"Tell me, captive, why in anguish

"Foes have dragg'd thee here to dwell, "Where poor Christians as they languish

"Hear no sound of Sabbath bell ?"

""Twas on Transylvania's Bannat,

"When the Crescent shone afar,

"Like a pale disastrous planet

"O'er the purple tide of war

"In that day of desolation,

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"Lady, I was captive made;

Bleeding for my Christian nation

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"From

my turban set thee free?"

Lady, no!-the gift were cruel,

"Ransom'd, yet if reft of thee.

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Say, fair princess! would it grieve thee

"Christian climes should we behold?"

"Nay, bold knight! I would not leave thee "Were thy ransom paid in gold!"

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"Tyrant barks, in vain ye ride!"

Soon at Rhodes the British lover

Clasp'd his blooming Eastern bride.

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