Canada, the blest—the unfastened! With prophetic look, I see Visions of thy destiny glory, Giving to the world's nice tale A web page, with powerful that means fraught, That asks a much wider variety of idea. Borne onward at the wings of Time, I hint thy destiny path chic; And suppose my fearful lot develop brilliant, whereas musing at the wonderful sight;— My center rejoicing bounds with glee To hail thy noble future!

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While our solution used to be shaped to promote our farm, and absorb our furnish of land within the backwoods, not anyone used to be so earnest in attempting to convince us to renounce this ruinous scheme as our good friend Brian B——, who grew to become really eloquent in his description of the rigors and sorrows that awaited us. over the last week of our remain within the township of H——, he visited us each night, and not bade us good-night and not using a tear moistening his cheek. We parted with the hunter as with an outdated good friend; and we by no means met back. His destiny used to be a tragic one. once we left that a part of the rustic, he fell right into a moping depression, which resulted in self-destruction. yet a kinder or warmer-hearted guy, whereas he loved the sunshine of cause, has seldom crossed our direction. The loss of life Hunter to His puppy. Lie down, lie down, my noble hound! That pleased bark supply o’er; It wakes the lonely echoes around, yet rouses me not more. Thy lifted ears, thy swelling chest, Thine eye so keenly vivid, now not kindle in my breast the joys of fierce pride; As following thee, on foaming steed, My keen soul outstripp’d thy pace. Lie down, lie down, my trustworthy hound! And watch tonight with me. For thee back the horn shall sound, through mountain, circulate, and tree; And thou, alongside the woodland glade, Shalt music the flying deer while, chilly and silent, i'm laid In kick back oblivion the following. one other voice shall cheer thee on, And glory whilst the chase is gained. Lie down, lie down, my gallant hound! Thy master’s lifestyles is sped; And, couch’d upon the dewy floor, ’Tis thine to monitor the lifeless. but if the blush of early day Is kindling within the sky, Then pace thee, devoted pal, away, And to my Agnes hie; And advisor her to this lonely spot, notwithstanding my closed eyes behold her now not. Lie down, lie down, my trusty hound! dying comes, and now we half. In my boring ear unusual murmurs sound— extra faintly throbs my middle; the various twinkling lighting fixtures of Heaven Scarce glimmer within the blue— relax around me falls the breath of even, chilly on my forehead the dew; Earth, stars, and heavens are misplaced to sight— The chase is o’er! —brave pal, good-night! 11 THE CHARIVARI Our destiny is seal’d! ’Tis now in useless to sigh For domestic, or acquaintances, or kingdom left at the back of. Come, dry these tears, and raise the downcast eye To the excessive heaven of wish, and be resign’d; knowledge and time will justify the deed, the attention will stop to weep, the guts to bleed. Love’s exciting sympathies, affections natural, All that endear’d and hallow’d your misplaced domestic, Shall on a huge beginning, enterprise and certain, identify peace; the barren region turn into pricey because the far-off land you fondly prize, Or costlier visions that during reminiscence upward thrust. The moan of the wind tells of the arrival rain that it bears upon its wings; the deep stillness of the woods, and the lengthened shadows they forged upon the flow, silently yet without doubt foreshow the bursting of the thunder-cloud; and who that has lived for any time upon the coast, can mistake the language of the waves—that deep prophetic surging that ushers within the poor gale?

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