Sound, sound the charge when the foe is before us, When the visors are closed and the lances are down, If we fall, let the banner of victory o'er us Dance time to thy clarion that sings our renown: To the souls of the valiant no requiem is given, So fit as thine echoes, to soothe them in heaven. LEON. * * * * * THE NEW YEAR _(For the Mirror.)_ Twenty-nine, Father Janus! and can it be true, That your _double-fac'd_ sconce is again in our view? Take a chair, my old boy--while our glasses we fill, And tell us, "what news"--for you can if you will. Shall we have any war? or will there be peace? Will swindlers, as usual, the credulous fleece? Will the season produce us a _deluge_ of rain? Did the comet bring coughs and catarrhs in his train? Will gas, so delicious, _perfume_ our abodes? Will McAdam continue "Colossus of _roads?_" Will Venus's boy be abroad with his bow, And make the dear girls over bachelors crow? Will _quid-nuncs_ from scandalous whispers refrain? Will poets the pent of Parnassus attain? Will travellers' tomes touch the truth to a T? Will critics from caustic coercion be free? Shall we check crafty care in his cunning career? In short--shall we welcome a happy new year? What, _mum_, Father Janus?--egad I suppose, Not one of our queries you mean to disclose. Let us, therefore, the blessings which Providence sends, To our country, to us, our relations and friends, With gratitude own--and employ the supplies, As prudence suggests, "to be merry and wise." Nor ever, too curious the future to pry, Presume on our own feeble strength to rely; But, taught by the _past;_ for the _future_, depend Where the wise and the good all their wishes extend. JACOBUS. * * * * * FALLING STONES. _(For the Mirror.)_