It will come!

Yea! An angel from the fight, It will come!

With fair Liberty in light, It will come!

Yea! An angel from the fight, With fair Liberty in light, Linked with Everlasting Right, It will come!

It will come!

By the Christ who hears our cries, It will come!

By the Spirit of the Skies, It will come!

By the Christ who hears our cries, By the Spirit of the Skies, By the G.o.d who never lies, It will come!

It will come!

With a place for you and me, It will come!

At the feastings of the Free, It will come!

With a place for you and me, At the feastings of the Free, With eternal Jubilee, It will come!

It will come!

BIRD OF THE SUMMERING NORTH.

Bird of the summering North, Whither away?

Fly you so gaily forth Simply to stay Nested in northern bowers Till the late flushing flowers Turn in October hours Ashen and gray?

Bear, then, this message, Dove, When you depart, Safe to my northern Love, Quick! Like a dart!

Bill her and coo her this Seal of triumphant bliss, One young, immortal kiss, Hot from my heart.

Then, in the autumn time, Tailing the pole, From my Love's cooling clime Make me your goal; Flash to this field of Fame, Linked with her darling name, All her concordant flame, Deep from her soul.

THE WAR SONG OF WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR.

_"By the splendor of G.o.d!" was a characteristic oath of William the Conqueror._

By the splendor of G.o.d! We come! We come!

To fight to the death for Old England's crown, To reign by G.o.d's grace or in gore go down.

By the splendor of G.o.d! We come! We come!

Sword in hand, by a King who dares To fight that G.o.d and our Right be made Our Right Divine by a b.l.o.o.d.y blade, Sword in hand, by a King who dares, By a King who dares.

By the splendor of G.o.d! We come! We come!

In swoop for fierce flesh, like a bird of prey, In scent of the blood of the brave to-day, By the splendor of G.o.d! We come! We come!

Sword in hand, for the Love of G.o.d!

Since blood is holy and royal wine, Advance! Drink health to the Norman line, Sword in hand, for the Love of G.o.d!

For the Love of G.o.d!

By the splendor of G.o.d! We come! We come!

Beware of the shock of the serried rank!

Beware of the brand of the fiery Frank!

By the splendor of G.o.d! We come! We come!

Sword in hand, by the Grace of G.o.d, We fight till death for Old England's crown, Till Harold, or We, with our crowns, go down, Sword in hand, by the Grace of G.o.d!

By the Grace of G.o.d!

By the splendor of G.o.d! We come! We come!

To fight to the death for Old England's crown, To reign by G.o.d's grace or in gore go down.

By the splendor of G.o.d! We come! We come!

Sword in hand, by a King who dares To fight that G.o.d and our Right be made Our Right Divine by a b.l.o.o.d.y blade, Sword in hand, by a King who dares, By a King who dares!

THE LIGHT OF YOUR BEAUTIFUL EYES.

As I stroll by the stream where you stray, A beam is reflected afar, Which seems, on the waters, a ray-- The ray from a luminous star.

What is it that sweetens my sight, That lightens the leaf-burthened skies?

What is it, my Love, but the light,-- The light of your beautiful eyes?

As nearer and nearer I roam, In the month of the rosy-mouthed June, What is it that throws round your home The mirage of the mystical moon?

What is it that softens my sight, That mellows the marvellous skies?

What is it, my Love, but the light,-- The light of your beautiful eyes?

As I gaze on the girl of my love, My ravishing, radiant one, There seems to shower light from above, And I look for the summer-time sun.

What is it that dazzles my sight, That rivals the roseate skies?

What is it, my Love, but the light,-- The light of your beautiful eyes?

BABYLON.

Thou art mighty, Babylon!

Thou art haughty, Babylon!

Haughty, mighty, Babylon!

Through thy streets the bats shall fly, O'er thy ruins owls shall cry, All thy chivalry shall die, Babylon!

Golden-G.o.dded Babylon!

Idol-cursed Babylon!

Idol-cursed, golden-G.o.dded, Babylon!

All thy G.o.ds shall bite the dust, All thy golden G.o.dlets must Sink to rottenness and rust, Babylon!

Thou art royal, Babylon!

Thou art ancient, Babylon!

Ancient, royal, Babylon!

Royal laws and ancient lies Vanish when the people rise, Truth must live, but Falsehood dies, Babylon!