There is none but the hunter to follow his High over the lesser steeples, tipped with a

The chorus re-echoed, "The roebuck is The gently-gathering shadows shut out the

Long ere the wondrous pillar of battle-cloud By the glare of her blazing roof-tree the

And, bathed in the living glory, as the peo- For the death that raged behind them, and the crash of ruin loud,

They saw the pride of the city, the spire of To the great square of the city were driven

Where, yet firm in all the tumult, unscathed | But see! he has stepped on the railing; he by the fiery flood, climbs with his feet and his hands,

With its heavenward-pointing finger the And firm on a narrow projection, with the church of St. Michael stood.

But e'en as they gazed upon it there rose a sudden wail

A

cry of horror blended with the roaring of the gale,

belfry beneath him, he stands; Now once, and once only, they cheer him

a single tempestuous breath

And there falls on the multitude gazing a hush like the stillness of death.

On whose scorching wings updriven a single Slow, steadily mounting, unheeding aught flaming brand save the goal of the fire, Aloft on the towering steeple clung like a Still higher and higher, an atom he moves on bloody hand.

"Will it fade ?" The whisper trembled from a thousand whitening lips;

Far out on the lurid harbor they watched it from the ships

the face of the spire.

He stops. Will he fall? Lo! for answer, a

gleam like a meteor's track,

And, hurled on the stones of the pavement, the red brand lies shattered and black.

A baleful gleam that brighter and ever Once more the shouts of the people have rent brighter shone, the quivering air;

Like a flickering, trembling will-o'-wisp to a At the church-door mayor and council wait

steady beacon grown.

"Uncounted gold shall be given to the man whose brave right hand,

For the love of the perilled city, plucks down yon burning brand!"

with their feet on the stair,

And the eager throng behind them press for

a touch of his hand

The unknown saviour whose daring could compass a deed so grand.

while they gaze?

So cried the mayor of Charleston, that all But why does a sudden tremor seize on them the people heard, But they looked each one at his fellow, and And what meaneth that stifled murmur of no man spoke a word.

Who is it leans from the belfry with face upturned to the sky,

Clings to a column and measures the dizzy spire with his eye?

wonder and amaze?

He stood in the gate of the temple he had perilled his life to save,

And the face of the hero, my children, was the sable face of a slave.

Will he dare it, the hero undaunted, that With folded arms he was speaking in tones that were clear, not loud,

terrible sickening height?

Or will the hot blood of his courage freeze in And his eyes, ablaze in their sockets, burnt

his veins at the sight?

into the eyes of the crowd:

'You may keep your gold-I scorn it—but And the pearl gleams forth from the coral answer me, ye who can,

strand?

If the deed I have done before you be not Is it there, sweet mother-that better land?" the deed of a man."

"Not there, not there, my child!

"Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy;
Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy;
Dreams cannot picture a world so fair;
Sorrow and death may not enter there;
Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom.
For beyond the clouds and beyond the
tomb-

It is there, it is there, my child!"

FELICIA HEMANS.

ND thou hast walked about-how strange Perchance that very hand now pinioned flat

Speak! for thou long enough hast acted I need not ask thee if that hand, when

Thou'rt standing on thy legs, above-ground, For thou wert dead and buried and em