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The minstrel fell ! but the foeman's chain

Could not bring his proud soul under;
The harp he loved ne'er spoke again,

For he tore its chords asunder,
And said, “No chains shall sully thee,

Thou soul of song and bravery !
Thy songs were made for the pure and free,
They shall never sound in slavery!”

Moore.

TO THE DANDELION.

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EAR common flower, that grow'st beside the

way, Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold,

First pledge of blithesome May, Which children pluck, and, full of pride, uphold.

High-hearted buccaneers, o'erjoyed that they
An Eldorado on the grass have found,

Which not the rich earth's ample round
May match in wealth; thou art more dear to me
Than all the prouder summer blooms may be.

Gold such as thine ne'er drew the Spanish prow Through the primeval hush of Indian seas,

Nor wrinkled the lean brow
Of age, to rob the lover's heart of ease;

'Tis the spring's largess, which she scatters now To rich and poor alike, with lavish hand,

Though most hearts never understand To take it at God's value, but pass by The offered wealth with unrewarded eye.

Thou art my tropics and mine Italy;
To look at thee unlocks a warmer clime;

The eyes thou givest me
Are in thy heart, and heed not space or time;

Not in mid- June the golden-cuirassed bee

Feels a more summer-like warm ravishment

In the white lily's breezy tent,
His fragrant Sybaris, than I, when first
From the dark green thy yellow circles burst.

Then think I of deep shadows on the grass,
Of meadows where in sun the cattle graze,

Where, as the breezes pass,
The gleaming rushes lean a thousand ways;

Of leaves that slumber in a cloudy mass,
Or whiten in the wind- of waters blue,

That from the distance sparkle through Some woodland gap-and of a sky above, Where one white cloud like a stray lamb doth move. My childhood's earliest thoughts are linked with

thee;
The sight of thee calls back the robin's song,

Who, from the dark old tree
Beside the door, sang dearly all day long.

And I, secure in childish piety,
Listened as if I heard an angel sing

With news from Heaven, which he could bring
Fresh every day to my untainted ears,
When birds and flowers and I were happy peers.

How like a prodigal doth Nature seem,
When thou, for all thy gold, so common art!

Thou teachest me to deem More sacredly of every human heart,

Since each reflects in joy its scanty gleam
Of Heaven, and could some wondrous secret show,

Did we but pay the love we owe,
And with a child's undoubting wisdom look
On all these living pages of God's book.

Lowell.

LAW AND WALTZING.

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"LE EX scripta, the written, the written, the

statute,

Non scripta, non scripta, the unwritten law, Include and, include and, not only the customs Of certain, and certain, and certain

Oh, pshaw ! Here now am I reading this chapter of Blackstone,

To the time, to the time of the waltzes last night; Von Weber, Von Weber! and Blackstone, and

Blackstone !
I wonder why waltzes won't stop after light.
Ah, me! how we floated together, together,

Adown and adown the bright depths of the room, All under and under the wreathings of banners,

And into Perfumeland of bloom and of bloom. As one, and as one—and our souls the mad music;

Her heart beating time unto mine, unto mine; We waltzed away, waltzed away, out of the finite Afar and afar into

Bosh! it is nine,
And here is my Blackstone awaiting my pleasure;

Ah, well, I suppose it is time now for it;
I forgot in the dance I was briefless, and now I'll

Forget the dance too. Lex scripta, the writ

HIAWATHA'S WOOING.

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T the doorway of the wigwam

Sat the ancient arrow-maker,

In the land of the Dacotahs,
Making arrow-heads of jasper,
Arrow-heads of chalcedony.
At his side, in all her beauty,
Sat the lovely Minnehaha,
Sat his daughter, Laughing Water,
Plaiting mats of flags and rushes;
Of the past the old man's thoughts were,
And the maiden's of the future.

Through their thoughts they heard a footstep,
Heard a rustling in the branches,
And with glowing cheek and forehead,
With the deer upon his shoulders,
Suddenly from out the woodlands
Hiawatha stood before them.

Straight the ancient arrow-maker
Looked up gravely from his labour,
Laid aside the unfinished arrow,
Bade him enter at the doorway,
Saying, as he rose to meet him,
“Hiawatha, you are welcome ! ”

At the feet of Laughing Water
Hiawatha laid his burden,
Threw the red deer from his shoulders,
And the maiden looked up at him,
Looked up from her mat of rushe
Said, with gentle look and accent,
“You are welcome, Hiawatha !”

Then uprose the Laughing Water,
From the ground fair Minnehaha
Laid aside her mat unfinished,
Brought forth food and set before them,
Water brought them from the brooklet,
Gave them food in earthen vessels,

Gave them drink in bowls of bass-wood, Listened while the guest was speaking, Listened while her father answered, But not once her lips she opened, · Not a single word she uttered,

Yet, as in a dream she listened To the words of Hiawatha.

After many years of warfare, Many years of strife and bloodshed, There is peace between the Ojibways And the tribe of the Dacotahs.” Thus continued Hiawatha, And then added, speaking slowly, “ That this peace may last for ever, And our hands be clasped more closely, And our hearts be more united, Give me as my wife this maiden, Loveliest of Dacotah women !”

And the ancient arrow-maker
Paused a moment ere he answered,
Smoked a little while in silence,
Looked at Hiawatha proudly,
Fondly looked at Laughing Water,
And made answer, very gravely,

Yes, if Minnehaha wishes,
Let your heart speak, Minnehaha !

And the lovely Laughing Water
Seemed more lovely as she stood there,
Neither willing nor reluctant
As she went to Hiawatha,
Softly took the seat beside him,
While she said, and blushed to say it,
“I will follow you, my husband !

Thus was Hiawatha's wooing !
Thus it was he won the daughter
Of the ancient arrow-maker,
In the land of the Dacotahs! ...

Pleasant was the journey homeward, All the birds sang loud and sweetly

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