Keen was the frost, the drifting snow fell thick Upon the plain, where late the battle rag'd. Benumb'd with cold, my heart was deathly sick, When my pale looks thy fostering care engag'd, Thy body thou didst gently bend to earth, And pressing to my breast its glowing heat. I felt the vital current gain new birth-- I felt the chilly hand of death retreat. The memory of that unnerves my hand; 'Tis that enforces the unmanly tear! To singly charge the foe be their command, I know a soldier's duty to revere. If on the "hope forlorn" I am doom'd to go, Still 'tis my duty, and I'll not repine! But I must perish, ere forget to know, Thy body fed the vital spark in mine. * * * * * _Colonel O'Kelly's famous horse Dungannon._ This celebrated racer is the sire of many famous horses; he is the son of the famous Eclipse, was foaled in 1780, and bred by colonel O'Kelly himself. The exploits of this famous racer are still fresh in the memory of all frequenters of the turf; and that his figure may survive with his fame, a most spirited print of him is published in England, in which he is drawn accompanied by a sheep. A story attaches to this curious coalescence, which we think worth relating to our readers. As a drover was passing by colonel O'Kelly's on his way with a flock of sheep for Smithfield market, one of them became so lame and sore-footed, that it could travel no further. The man wishing to get rid of the impediment, took up the distressed animal, and dropped it over the pales of a paddock belonging to Mr. O'Kelly, where the race-horse was then grazing, and pursued his journey, intending to call for the sheep, upon his return back to the farmer who had employed him, believing the creature after a little rest, would quickly recover. This was the case, and an attachment between the two rangers of the little paddock presently took place, almost to surpass probability. It is related by evidence indisputable, that such was the affection of DUNGANNON for the sheep, that besides sporting with it in various ways, he would sometimes take it in his mouth by the neck with great tenderness, and lift it into the crib where the groom deposited his fodder, as much as to say, though you are not able to reach it, I will help you to the banquet. Besides this, the horse would on all occasions defend his new friend, and suffered no one to offer him the least molestation. Mr. O'Kelly being made acquainted with these circumstances, resolved to make the sheep his own, bought him of the farmer, and marked the wool with his own initials, D. O'K. and left the two friends in peaceable possession of the paddock and its adjoining shelter.