Away! on the glist’ning plain we go, With our steely feet so bright; Away! for the north winds keenly blow And winter’s out to-night. With the stirring shout of the joyous rout To the ice-bound stream we hie; On the river’s breast, where snow flakes rest, We’ll merrily onward fly! Our fires flame high; by their midnight glare We will wheel our way along; And the white woods dim, and the frosty air, Shall ring with the skater’s song. With a crew as bold as ever was told For the wild and daring deed, What can stay our flight by the fire’s red light, As we move with lightning speed. We heed not the blast who are flying as fast As deer o’er the Lapland snow; When the cold moon shines on snow-clad pines And wintry breezes blow. The cheerful hearth, in the hall of mirth, We have gladly left behind— For a thrilling song is borne along On the free and stormy wind. Our hearts beating warm—we’ll laugh at the storm When it comes in a fearful rage— “While with many a wheel on the ringing steel A riotous game we will wage.” By the starry light of a frosty night We trace our onward way; While on the ground with a splintering sound The frost goes forth at play. Then away! to the stream, in the moonlight’s beam, For the night it waneth fast, And the silent tread of the ghostly dead At the midnight hour hath passed. H. B. T. * * * * * THE ISLETS OF THE GULF; OR, ROSE BUDD. Ay, now I am in Arden; the more fool I; when I was at home I was in a better place; but Travelers must be content. AS YOU LIKE IT. BY THE AUTHOR OF “PILOT,” “RED ROVER,” “TWO ADMIRALS,” “WING-AND-WING,” “MILES WALLINGFORD,” &c. [Entered, according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1846, by J. Fenimore Cooper, in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States, for the Northern District of New York.] (_Continued from page 192._) PART VI. At the piping of all hands, When the judgment signal’s spread— When the islands and the land, And the seas give up their dead, And the south and the north shall come; When the sinner is dismayed, And the just man is afraid, Then heaven be thy aid, Poor Tom. BRAINARD.