Opposite to them, Humphrey, hung the new colours which we received on our land

ing from Spain. We had hoped that they, too, would have lost their freshness like the old ones. There was no servility now in forcing the colonel into the chair, and he felt the compliment justly. As we moved into the room for the last time, and the band struck up our regimental march, a chord of sympathy was touched within us. But I hate these idle recollections-let's have done with them. I shall tell you only of the close. The cloth was removed, and the first toast, standing and in silence, was- The memory of the second battalion.' We had a stripling in the corps who fancied himself a poet. He had joined us too late to share in the days of our triumphs, but he loved the regiment with all the enthusiasm of a boy, and he would strive to celebrate its glories. He had a song for the

occasion, and it was

sung by another of the

lads after the toast. I have a copy of it for

thee, Humphrey..

1.

Yon Flag that once triumphant wav'd
O'er old Rodrigo's walls,

And thence the Gallic Eagle scar'd,

Now sadly drooping falls:

Yet while the pride of British arms,

And British prowess lives,

Those Dragon Banners ne'er shall want

The meed that valour gives.

2.

Around those tatter'd standards once,

Firm as their island oak,

A gallant band at El Bodon,

The hostile torrent broke.

O'er are those triumphs, past the hours
Which flew 'midst festive mirth;

And gone, for ever gone, the days
That gave our pleasures birth.

3.

And must, indeed, the social tie
Which each to other drew,

And balmy Friendship's hallow'd bands

Must they be broken too?

Oh! no, while yet the life-blood warms
One heart that's beating here,
That heart shall oft and oft recall
This parting with a tear.

"Doggrel as it is, Humphrey, we could not stand it. Old D- cried like a child. 'Can't help it, boys, can't help it,' was all his apology. We were a parcel of old

fools, Ravelin, for there were few dry eyes among us. We appealed to the bottle for a cheerful parting, but our success was but indifferent. I determined to see no more of my old comrades, since separate we must, and they had not risen from their last meeting, when I stole away and threw myself into the chaise which was to bear me towards your cheerful nest,"

THE WEST INDIES.

"Dependants, friends, relations, Love himself,
Savag'd by woe, forget the tender tie,

The sweet engagement of the feeling heart.
But vain their selfish care: the circling sky,
The wide enlivening air, is full of fate;
And, struck by turns, in solitary pangs

They fall, unbless'd, untended, and unmourn'd."

THOMSON.