we who daily, O for a whiff of Naseby, that would Without long struggle, none did e'er attain The downward look from Quiet's bliss-IN a small chamber, friendless and un ful seat: Though present loss may be the hero's part, Yet none can rob him of the victor heart Whereby the broad-realmed future is subdued, And Wrong, which now insults from triumph's car, Sending her vulture hope to raven far, Is made unwilling tributary of Good. O Mother State, how quenched thy Sinai fires! Is there none left of thy stanch Mayflower breed? No spark among the ashes of thy sires, Of Virtue's altar-flame the kindling seed? Are these thy great men, these that cringe and creep, And writhe through slimy ways to place and power? How long, O Lord, before thy wrath shall reap Our frail-stemmed summer prosperings in their flower? O for one hour of that undaunted stock That went with Vane and Sidney to the block! What! shall one monk, scarce known beyond his cell, Front Rome's far-reaching bolts, and scorn her frown? Brave Luther answered YES; that thunder's swell Rocked Europe, and discharmed the triple crown. Whatever can be known of earth we know, Sneered Europe's wise men, in their No! said one man in Genoa, and that Out of the darkness summoned this Who is it will not dare himself to trust? Who is it thwarts and bilks the inward ON THE DEATH OF C. T. TORREY. WOE worth the hour when it is crime cause, When all that makes the heart sublime, He strove among God's suffering poor O Mother State ! when this was done, And now thou givest to thy son He and his works, like sand, from Must it be thus forever? No! The poet's clearer eye should see, in all | And lives unwithered in its blithesome Earth's seeming woe, seed of immor youth, When he who called it forth is but a The prodigal soul from want and sorrow | Thou knowest how much a gentle soul home, And Eden ope her gates to Adam's seed. Farewell! good man, good angel now! this hand Soon, like thine own, shall lose its cunning too; Soon shall this soul, like thine, bewildered stand, Then leap to thread the free, unfathomed blue: When that day comes, O, may this hand grow cold, Busy, like thine, for Freedom and the O, may this soul, like thine, be ever bold To face dark Slavery's encroaching blight! This laurel-leaf I cast upon thy bier; Let worthier hands than these thy wreath intwine; Upon thy hearse I shed no useless tear,For us weep rather thou in calm di 1842. vine ! TO THE MEMORY OF HOOD. ANOTHER star 'neath Time's horizon dropped, To gleam o'er unknown lands and seas; Another heart that beat for freedom stopped, What mournful words are these! O Love Divine, that claspest our tired earth, And lullest it upon thy heart, is worth Atilt like a blossom among the leaves, And lets his illumined being o'errun With the deluge of summer it receives; His mate feels the eggs beneath her wings, And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and sings; Earth gets its price for what Earth gives He sings to the wide world, and she to us; The beggar is taxed for a corner to die in, The priest hath his fee who comes and shrives us, We bargain for the graves we lie in ; At the devil's booth are all things sold, Each ounce of dross costs its ounce of gold; For a cap and bells our lives we pay, Bubbles we buy with a whole soul's tasking: her nest, In the nice ear of Nature which song is the best? "Tis heaven alone that is given away, 'Tis only God may be had for the ask- No ing; We are happy now because God wills it; matter how barren the past may have been, |