Our good old English Principles.

Our good old English principles, I've heard my father

say,

Have shap'd the country's destinies in many a stormy day.

And thus it was, he answered, when I asked what they

were:

"Go look into your Bible, boy, you'll find them written there."

Now, let a man sit calmly down, his Bible on his knee, And tell me what a country's creed, a country's code, should be;

What this should teach, or that forbid-and here I pledge my troth,

Our good old English principles shall comprehend them both.

First-England's Queen is bound to swear she will maintain the cause

Of God and true religion as the basis of her laws; That to the humblest working man that toils within the land

She'll meet out equal justice with a free unsparing hand. While all the Queen can look for, from her subjects is that they

So long as she rules righteously like liegemen shall obey.

Now if the Queen is faithful to her Coronation Oath,

I say that these are principles that must be right for both.

Next-there's the Church of England, where every

Sabbath-day

The poorest man in England is free to kneel and pray; May hear the Bible read aloud, his Maker's praises sung, And have salvation preached to him-in his own native tongue.

Yet every man in England to worship God is free,

Just as his conscience urges him, however that may be: Though high and low to act on them too oft, alas! are loth,

Yet these again are principles that must be right for both.

Next-by the laws of England, a man is free to do,
To speak, to write, to print, whate'er is honest, just, or

true;

May choose his occupation, may have, and hold, his

own,

Against the proudest nobleman-ay, more, against the

throne

While all that's ask'd in turn of him, all that the law can claim,

Is that he leaves another man as free to do the same.

Tho' wealth and honors, like the rain, but on the few may fall,

The principles that leads to them exist alike for all.

For every wrong a man may do, for every evil deed, Those laws have framed some punishment, or some redress decreed;

For all that may befall a man, age, sickness, or distress, Those laws do all that laws can do, to make their sufferings less.

Beneath them we have flourish'd, and have filled the world with fame,

It is true that other nations have without them done the

same;

But, one by one, the world have seen those nations overthrown,

While we have stood triumphant, through our principles alone.

King Solomon, the wisest man that on the earth e'er trod,
Declares that "all is vanity," except the fear of God.
As England loves the welfare of her people and her

crown,

Let her hold fast the maxim which King Solomon lays down.

When far-fetched fine-spun theories, when diplomatic skill,

When petty party politics, have wrought sufficient ill, When a most vile expediency shall to the winds be driven,

She'll know the worth of principles which have their source in heaven.

The Men of Truth.

Stand firm together! men of truth!
Throughout the land in strength combining,
And with the " might of men" stand forth,
Our hearts and hands in love entwining.
Should Britain hold the truth supreme,
And we be called on to defend her,
Our blood shall flow with every stream,
E'er we our lovely isle surrender.

The vassals of a foreign slave

Have all our blood-bought rights invaded, Our nation sunk in thraldom's grave,

And all its pristine glory faded!

Burns in your breasts our fathers' pride?

Their voice was like a roar of thunder; They toil'd and wept, and bled and died, And tore th' enslaving chains asunder.

Oh! with the chains our fathers burst,
Those tyrants now would foudly bind us;
But ne'er beneath the yoke that curst

And blights our native land they'll find us!
The despot's laws let slaves obey;

Of freemen's sons who could command it? Or bow before the tyrant's sway—

Oh, where's the wretch that dare demand it?

By Derry's walls-on Aughrim's plains!
'Twas there the noble ranks assembled ;
No coward heart their mem'ry stains;
No spirit faltered, fell, or trembled !
When called to tread the battle-field,

Their sons, with hearts and courage bolder-
Oh! 'tis their fathers' power to wield,

Or with their fathers' bones to moulder!

The blood of martyrs fires your veins !

In freedom's cause your sword's unsheath'd!

To wipe away the blot that stains

The land our father's blood bequeathed;

&

To win the rights, oh, luckless hour!

Of which perfidious Rome bereaved us; To break the haughty tyrant's power,

And crush the traitors who deceived us!

Stand firm together! men of truth!

Though weak and few may be the number; Gird on your loins the strength of youth, Not idly at your posts to slumber! Should Britain hold the truth supreme, And we be called on to defend her, Our blood shall flow with every stream, E'er we our lovely isle surrender.

A Song for the Peomen.

A brave and jolly yeoman, long

Lived on the river Foyle,

When work was throng, a simple song

Beguiled his daily toil:

And still the burthen of his song,

For ever used to be,

"My King, though all the world goes wrong,

Shall find a friend in me."

In ninety-eight, when Erin's state

Was bad as bad could be;

When rebels rose, and England's foes

Cried loud for liberty :