Ivry.
The Times, 1824-01-14T00:00:00

LFt lRrl Quaterlzp Afoainc-.J Now glory to th odot lss fronm whom all glones are ! And glory to our Sovereign Liege, King Hlenry of Navarre! ow let there be the merry sound of music and of dance, Through thy corn-fields green, and sunny vines, oh pleasant land of And thou, Rochdlle our own Rochelle, proud dity of the wate:s, Again let rapture ligit the eyes of all thy mourning daughters. As thou wertconstant in our ills, be joyous in our joy, For cold, and stifi, and stil are they who wrought thy walls annoy. Hurrah. ! hulrrah ! a single field hathl turned the chance of war, Hurrah ! hurrah! for Ivrr, and Henry of Navarre. Oh! how our hearts were beating when, at the dawn of day, fe saw the army of the League arawn out in long array; With all itq Driest_led citizens, and all its rebel peers, And Appeniel's stout infantrv, and Egmont's Flemish spears. There rode the brood of false fLorraine, the curses of our Jpd;- And dark Miayenne was in the midst, a truncleon in his-han.:' And, as we looked on them, we thnuaht of Seine's empurPled AGod, And good Coligni's hoary hair all dabbled with -his blood; And we cried unto the living God, who rules the fate of war, To fight' for his own holy name, and Henry of Navarre. The ;ing is come to marshal us, in. aU his armour drest, And he has bound a snow-white plume upon his galant crest. He looked upon his people, and a tear was in his eye; He looked upon the traitors, and his glance was stera and high. Right gaciously he smiled on us, as rolled from winF to Winr, Down all our line, a deafening shout, " God save our Lord the King." An if my standard.bearer fall, as fall fuU weeU he may, For never saw I promuse yetof such'abloody frsy, Presswbere ye se enywAta plumesbii?e, amidst themranlsof war, ' And be your oriflamnie to.day the helmet of Navarre." Hurrah ! the foes are moving. Hark to the mingled din, Of fire, and'steed, and trump, and drum, and roamng cnlverin, Thefiery Duke is pricking fast across Saint Andre's plain, With all the hireling chivalryof Guelders and Almavne. Now by the lips of those ye love, fair gentlemen of eranee Charge for the golden lilies_upon them with, the lance. A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears in rest, A thousand knights are pressing close behinrd the snow. white crest; And in they burst, and on they rushed, vhile, like a guiding star, Amidst the thickest carnage blazed the helmet of Navarre. Now, God be praised, the day is ours. )Uayenne hath turned his rein. D'umau e hathlcried for quarter. The Flemish Count is slain. Ilheir ranks are breaking hke thin clouds before a Biscay gale; The field is heaped with bleeding steeds, and flags, and cloven mail. And then we thought on vengeance, and, all 'along our van, ' Remember St. tartholomevl" was passed from man to man. But out spake gentle Henry, " No Frenchman is my foe: Down, down, with every foreigner, hut let your brethren go." Oh W.S there ever such a kniht, in friendship or in war As our Sovereign Lord, King HIenry, the soldier of Navarre! Ho! maidens of Vienna; Ho ! matrons of Lucernem IVeep, weep, and rend your hair for those who never sAall return. Ho! Philip, send, fbr charity, thy AMexican pistoles, That Antiverp monks may sing a massfor thy poor spearmen's souls. Ho! gaUant nobles of the League, look that you; arms be bright- Ho! b. uhers of Saint Genevtevc, keep watch and ward to.nighte For our hod hath crushed the tyrant, our God bath raised the slate, And mocked the counsel of the w;ise, and the valour of the brave. Ten glory to his ho1y name, from w hom a]llglorics are; And glory to our Siovereign Lor_, Eing Henry of Navarre. IVRAY.