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Along her cheek a deepening red,
Told where the feverish hectic fed;

And yet, each fatal token gave
To the mild beauty of her face
A newer and a dearer grace,

Unwarning of the grave.
'Twas like the hue which Autumn gives
To yonder changed and dying leaves,

Breathed over by her frosty breath;
Scarce can the gazer feel that this
Is but the spoiler's treacherous kiss,
The mocking-smile of death!


Ask why the graceful grape entwines
The rough oak with her arm of vines;
And why the gray rock's rugged cheek
The soft lips of the mosses seek;
Why, with wise instinct, Nature seems
To harmonize her wide extremes,
Linking the stronger with the weak,
The haughty with the soft and meek!


HOME. The hills are dearest which our childish feet Have climbed the earliest; and the streams most

sweet Are ever those at which our young lips drank, Stooped to their waters o'er the grassy bank. Midst the cold, dreary, sea-watch, home's hearth

light Shines round the helmsman plunging through the

night; And still, with inward eye, the traveler sees In close, dark, stranger streets, his native trees.

-Ibid. MAMMON.

Fond longings dimly understood,
The glow of passion's quickening blood,
And cherished fantasies which press
The young lip with a dream's caress, –
The heart's forecast and prophecy
Took form and life before my eye,
Seen in the glance which met my own,
Heard in the soft and pleading tone,
Felt in the arms around me cast,
And warm heart-pulses beating fast.
Ah! scarcely yet to God above
With deeper trust, with stronger love,
Has prayerful saint his meek heart lent,
Or cloistered nun at twilight bent,
Than I, before a human shrine,
As mortal and as frail as mine,
With heart, and soul, and mind, and form,
Knelt madly to a fellow worm.


Tell us not of banks and tariffs; cease your paltry

pedler cries; Shall the good State sink her honor that your

gambling stocks may rise ? Would ye barter man for cotton? That your gains

may sum up higher, Must we kiss the feet of Moloch, pass our children

through the fire? Is the dollar only real? God and truth and right a

dream? Weighed against your lying ledgers must our manhood kick the beam ?

- The Pine-tree. GARRISON.

Brutal alike in deed and word,

With callous heart and hand of strife, How like a fiend may man be made, Plying the foul and monstrous trade

Whose harvest-field is human life, Whose sickle is the reeking sword!


The sweet songs, Simple and beautiful as Truth and Nature, Of whose whitened locks on Rydal Mount Are lifted yet by morning breezes blowing From the green hills, immortal in his lays.

- The Bridal of Pennacook.

Champion of those who groan beneath

Oppression's iron hand;
In view of penury, hate and death,

I see thee fearless stand.
Still bearing up the lofty brow,

In the steadfast strength of truth,
In manhood sealing well the vow
And promise of thy youth.

- To W. L. G.



The Indian's heart is hard and cold,

It closes darkly o'er its care,
And formed in Nature's sternest mould
Is slow to feel, and strong to bear.


Oh, vain the vow, and vain the strife!

How vain do all things seem! My soul is in the past, and life To-day is but a dream !

- The Knight of St. John.


The simple burst of tenderest feeling
From sad hearts worn by evil-dealing,
For blessing on the hand of healing,-
Better than Glory's pomp will be
That green and blessed spot to me,
A palm-shade in Eternity!


Watching on the hills of Faith; Listening what the spirit saith, Of the dim-seen light afar, Growing like a nearing star. God's interpreter art thou, To the waiting ones below; 'Twixt them and its light midway Heralding the better day,– Catching gleams of temple spires, Hearing notes of angel choirs, Where, as yet unseen of them, Comes the New Jerusalem! - The Curse of the Charter-breakers.


Oh, the outward hath gone! but in glory and power,
The SPIRIT surviveth the things of the hour;
Unchanged, undecaying its Pentecost flame
On the heart's secret altar is burning the same!

- Palestine. SHIPLEY,

Thank God! that I have lived to see the time

When the great truth begins at last to find

An utterance from the deep heart of mankind, Earnest and clear, that ALL REVENGE IS

That man is holier than a creed;—that all

Restraint upon him must consult his good,
Hope's sunshine linger on his prison wall,

And Love look in upon his solitude. The beautiful lesson which our Savior taught Through long, dark centuries its way hath wrought Into the common mind and popular thought; And words, to which by Galilee's lake shore The humble fishers listened, with hushed oar, Have found an echo in the general heart, And of the public faith become a living part.


Gentlest of spirits! not for thee

Our tears are shed, our sighs are given;
Why mourn to know thou art a free

Partaker of the joys of Heaven?
Finished thy work, and kept thy faith
In Christian firmness unto death;
And beautiful as sky and earth,

When autumn's sun is downward going,
The blessèd memory of thy worth
Around thy place of slumber glowing!

- To the Memory of Thomas Shipley.

All parties feared him: each in turn

Beheld its schemes disjointed,
As right or left his fatal glance

And spectral finger pointed,
Sworn foe of Cant, he smote it down

With trenchant wit unsparing,
And, mocking, rent with ruthless hand
The robe Pretence was wearing.

-Randolph of Roanoke.



What matters it! a few years more,
Life's surge so restless heretofore
Shall break upon the unknown shore!
In that far land shall disappear
The shadows which we follow here, -
The mist-wreaths of our atmosphere!


If through the wreck of wasted powers,
Of garlands wreathed from Folly's bowers,
Of idle aims and misspent hours,
The eye can note one sacred spot
By Pride and Self profaned not,
A green place in the waste of thought,

Where deed or word hath rendered less “ The sum of human wretchedness,”

And Gratitude looks forth to bless,

God be praised for every instinct which rebels

against a lot Where the brute survives the human, and man's

upright form is not! As the serpent-like bejuco winds his spiral fold on

fold Round the tall and stately ceiba, till it withers in

his hold, Slow decays the forest monarch, closer girds the

fell embrace, Till the tree is seen no longer, and the vine is in its

place,So a base and bestial nature round the vassal's

manhood twines, And the spirit wastes beneath it, like the ceiba choked with vines.

- The Slaves of Martinique.

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Love of Home, and Love of Woman!—dear to all,

but doubly dear To the heart whose pulses elsewhere measure only

hate and fear. All around the desert circles, underneath a brazen

sky, Only one green spot remaining where the dew is

never dry! From the horror of that desert, from its atmosphere

of hell, Turns the fainting spirit thither, as the driver seeks his bell.

-Ibid. HOPE.

HAIL, Columbia! happy land!
Hail, ye heroes! heaven-born band!

Who fought and bled in Freedom's cause;

Who fought and bled in Freedom's cause, And when the storm of war was gone, Enjoyed the peace your valor won.

Let independence be our boast,
Ever mindful what it cost;
Ever grateful for the prize,
Let its altar reach the skies.

Firm, united let us be,
Rallying round our Liberty;
As a band of brothers joined,
Peace and safety we shall find.

The Night is mother of the Day

The Winter of the Spring, And ever upon old Decay

The greenest mosses cling. Behind the cloud the starlight lurks,

Through showers the sunbeams fall, For God, who loveth all his works, Has left His Hope with all!

-A Dream of Summer.


Immortal patriots! rise once more, Defend your rights, defend your shore;

Let no rude foe with impious hand,

Let no rude foe with impious hand, Invade the shrine where sacred lies, Of toil and blood, the well-earned prize.

While offering peace sincere and just, In heaven we place a manly trust, That truth and justice will prevail, And every scheme of bondage fail.

Firm, united let us be, etc.

Deeper than the gilded surface

Hath thy wakeful vision seen,
Farther than the narrow present

Have thy journeyings been.
Thou hast midst life's empty noises

Heard the solemn steps of Time,
And the low mysterious voices
Of another clime.


Art's perfect forms no moral need,
And beauty is its own excuse.


Sound, sound the trump of Fame!
Let Washington's great name

Ring through the world with loud applause,

Ring through the world with loud applause;
Let every clime to Freedom dear
Listen with a joyful ear!

With equal skill and godlike power,
He governed in the fearful hour
Of horrid war; or guides with ease
The happier times of honest peace.

Firm, united let us be, etc.


Ho! workers of the old time, styled

The Gentle Craft of Leather. Young brothers of the ancient guild,

Stand forth once more together!
Call out again your long array,

In the olden merry manner!
Once more, on gay St. Crispin's day,
Fling out your blazoned banner!

- The Shoemaker.

Behold the chief who now commands,
Once more to serve his country stands-

The rock on which the storm will beat,

The rock on which the storm will beat;
But, armed in virtue firm and true,
His hopes are fixed on heaven and you.

When hope was sinking in dismay,
And glooms obscured Columbia's day,
His steady mind, from changes free,
Resolved on death, or liberty.
Firm, united let us be, etc.



There's life alone in duty done,
And rest alone in striving.

- The Drovers.

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