FrOm the Saratoga Sentinel. THE EXILE'S PROPHECY.
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THE EXILE'S PROPHECY. WRITTEN BY A YOUNG LADY ON HEARING MAJ Tocr11dAN's LEcrURE--'' POLAND IS NOT LosT." They tell us Poland is no more, That the proud name she wore of yore Is plotted from the things that be, And lives but in our memory;

 But in the clouds that breeding lie

 Ger Europe'S troubled coast, Mine ears are greeted with the cry,

 That Poland is not lost.' Forge heavier chains for poland's neck, And freedoms faintest life-pulse check, People Siberia's snowy waste With all her court and camp who grace; But vain are guards, and watch and spy,

 Know Tyrants to your cost The hour of vengeance draweth nigh,

 For" Poland $ UOt lost" Are all the tears and prayers given For Poland's cause forgot by Heaven! And did her Martyrs die in vain By Praga's arch and Warsaw's plain?

 No! midst the storm that's speeding by,

 And empires tempest tost,

 heard loud voice prophecy

 That :" Poland is not IOst." That voice shall shake the despot's throne, When England echoes to the tone; When ringing through the Grecian skies, Each hill of gallant France replies;

 When one wild voice is flung on high

 From all the Atlantic coast; And our bright West joins in the cry,

 That " Poland isnOt lost" H. P.E.