SONNET.

Not home to land and kindred wast thou brought,

Nor laid‘ mid trampled dead of battle won,—

Nor after long life filled with duty done

Was thine such death as thou thyself had'st sought!

No, sadder far, with horror overwrought

That end that gave to thee thy cruel grave

Deep in blue chasms of some glacier cave,

When Cervins perils thou, the first, had'st fought

And conquered, Douglas! for in thee uprose

In boyhood e'en a nature noble, free,—

So gently brave with courtesy, that those

Old Douglas knights, the “flowers of Chivalry,”

Had joyed to see that in our times again

A link of gold had graced their ancient chain!