22
"In the lost battle, borne down by the flying,
Where mingles war's rattle with groans of the dying!"
So the notes rung;—
"Avoid thee, fiend!—with cruel hand,
Shake not the dying sinner's sand,
Oh! look, my son, upon yon sign
Of the Redeemer's grace divine;
Oh! think no faith and bliss:—
By many a death-bed I have been,
And many a sinner's parting seen,
But never aught like this."
The war, that for a space did fail,
Now trebly thundering swell'd the gale,
And-Stanley! was the cry;—
A light on Marmion's visage spread,
And fired his glazing eye:
With dying hand, above his head
He shook the fragment of his blade,
And shouted "Victory;
Charge, Chester, charge! On, Stanely, on!"
Were the last words of Marmion.
THE FATHER REFORMED.
Father. Come, darling, take a little toddy,
It is a cold and rainy day;
A little's good for any body;
Come, take a little, child, I pray.
Child. O father, do not tempt me so,
I fear I'll love it by and by,
And then my love will grow and grow,
Till I shall drink your bottle dry.
