The army follows with their nodding plumes, And burnished armor, trumpets, rolling drums, And glistening spears enwreathed with fragrant flowers, While scarfs are waving from the crowded towers, And shouts of joy their welcome loud proclaim, And from each lip resounds their monarch's name.

THE OUTCASTS The smile of God was in the air; Enwreathed in veils of silvery hue, The valley lay, divinely fair, Beneath a cloudless vault of blue; And singing, like a bird set free, The river hurried to the sea.

Ivy reaches up and climbs About its lip, gilt here and there with sprays Of woodbine, that enwreathed about it flaunts Her saffron fruitage.