The Saco foams, the Suncooc lights the grove,
The bright Souhegan eddies into smiles,
The Ox-bow winds its circling arms of love

Around its grassy intervales and isles,
The Nashua gleams, the Oliverian sings,
The Neewishwannoc bubbles from its springs;

The Strawberry Bank still shade its flowery balm,
The Ossipee glimmers with the round moon large,
And Newfound pond sleeps in its starry calm,

And Sunapee sweetly smiles to old Kearsarge ;
Sons of New Hampshire, how some heart-string thrills
At each old name familiar mid our hills.

Though 't is a rugged clime, and those stout hearts
Which beat there, beat as 'twere 'gainst banks of snow,
Yet fire sleeps in the flint-stone, lightning darts
Oft from the snow-clouds with a summer glow,
And granite friendships ne'er shall part asunder,
Till old Monadnoc bows down to the thunder.

Heroic STARK, a boy of but fifteen,

The murderous Indian gauntlet forced to run, Snatching a war-club, boldly rushed between

The lifted tomahawks, while his blows did stun Full many a warrior's skull, and his race ended, Left on the ground a score of braves extended.

MCNEILL and MILLER, CILLEY and SULLIVAN,
Have bid defiance to the foe's red rally,
British or savage, and in battle's van

Led through the grainfields and each corn-bright valley Their band of mountaineers from the hills' vastness,

Like battle eagles from their mountain fastness.

The Hills and Freedom! Speak, thou Greece of old,
Where fiercest rung and longest freedom's song;
Speak, Switzerland, where Tell's great heart grew bold,
And Hofer's soul amid thy crags grew strong;
Speak, proud Circassia's Schamyl, hurled by thee
The crags out-thunder Russ artillery.

Speak, freemen of all lands, your banners fly

High up the hills, when plains no more are free;
And speak, all history, with your grand reply,
That mountains are the cradles of the free,
And freedom's sun, when plains no more it fills,
Sheds its last sunset glories on th' eternal hills.

Match me our mountain girls; and sigh no more
For Eastern houries or Circassian maids,
But with our wide-awake, loyal girls, roam o'er
Our dewy dells and tangled mountain glades,
And star their glossy hair with wild-wood flowers,
And kiss their love-lips in their wild-wood bowers.

Our land of mountains and of mountain mind;

CASS, MASON, WOODBURY, rise before our eyes,
And his great name, which State lines cannot bind,
For 't is the Continent's and history's;

And Franklin is the shrine of patriot worth,
And Marshfield the Mount Vernon of the North.

New Hampshire, by thy crags and lucid rills,

By thy White Hills where grandeurs dwell alone;
By wild Franconia, where the spirit thrills

In awe before the Old Man's mountain throne;
By Winnepeesaukee's blue and rippling sheen,
By thy weird realm of boundless evergreen;

God grant some pale young Poet yet may rise,

Whose soul shall wax grand with thy grand old mountains,

Whose heart shall glow with thy autumnal skies

And tremble with the music of thy fountains,

Until he pours thy lakes and hills along

The Poet's spell and consecrating song.

In response to a remark from the Chair, in honor of Coos County, MR. BURBANK said:

Mr. Chairman:

Remarks of R. J. Burbank, Esq.

In behalf of the County of Coos, I most sincerely thank the sons of New Hampshire here assembled, for the very kind and generous manner in which her name has just been received.

While, sir, our native County is inferior in numbers, she yields the palm in nothing else. From the days of the revolution to the present time, she has contributed her jewels of patriotism, enterprise and morals, to increase the fair fame of the Old Granite State.

As you behold upon the map the serried hills and mountains, apparently elbowing each other for more room, you naturally conclude that ours is a land of shadows and of gloom. But, sir, search from the Danube to the Rio Grandé, and thence to the golden shores of the Pacific, for grandeur and sublimity of scenery, and, if anywhere, you will find them in old CoosGod bless her! [Cheers.]

As by stage-coach or rail-car you enter our corner of the State, you find yourself threading rich and beautiful valleys, variegated with luxuriant fields waving in our pure and healthful mountain breezes. And as you tread the banks of our meandering streams and crystal lakes, reflecting verdant hill-sides, all smiling and radiant in grateful sun-light, you at every turn are greeted with neat and thriving villages, proud of their churches, academies and snug little school-houses-and there, too, are happy homes,-founded and cherished by joyous industry, and from which the hand of liberal hospitality is freely extended to welcome you thither. [Cheers.]

Such are our valleys, and such our happy homes. But ascend our towering mountains- those rich repositories of mineral wealth and from their lofty summits, in the very skies, behold the far-off ocean; and then the glorious outstretched landscape, teeming with primeval forests, agriculture, enterprise and wealth, as far as the eye can reach, and your thrill of admiration cannot be described; it can only be felt, while standing on the top of our own Mount Washington. [Applause.]

Sir, in the result of this second Festival, our hearts throb and our bosoms heave with as true pride as those from any other County in the State; and wherever inclination or interest may lead them, our carnest good wishes will ever attend the sons of good old New Hampshire.

I beg leave to offer the following sentiment:

Our future Festivals — More joyous than their predecessors, as the sons of New Hampshire are less glorious than her daughters; those fairest flowers of our native valleys; those richest jewels of our native mountains, whose cheering presence will grace and adorn our future brilliant festivities.

[Applause.]

C. C. ANDREWS, Esq., of Boston, having been called upon by the Chairman to respond to a compliment in honor of Hillsborough County, said:

Mr. Chairman:

Remarks of C. C. Andrews, Esq.

I deem it unfortunate for myself as well as for those present, that you have invited me to respond for the County of Hillsborough. It might have been somewhat appropriate, perhaps, for me to rise as a representative of the town of Hillsborough; but, to be called up thus unexpectedly, and when my reason has been captivated by the eloquence which has flowed from so many lips, I can neither do justice to myself nor to my native home.

The town of Hillsborough, it seems to me, is entitled to our especial notice on this occasion, as having furnished to the country and the world the present chief magistrate of the nation. [Cheers.] And it gives me the greatest pleasure to believe that her entire population feel a deep pride that a statesman whose career has been so preeminently fortunate and illustrious had there his birth-place. But a deeper and juster pride they experience in the assurance, shared in by us, I am certain, that he is a patriot states man. [Applause.] Hereafter I trust it may be said of him as of his first great predecessor, "it matters not what immediate spot may have been the birth-place of such a man." I have been gratified, sir, to observe that the leading sentiment which has characterized the speeches of this evening, is that of patriotism. It is patriotism which is uttered forth in every word of that beautiful sentiment which President PIERCE has favored us with, and which has been received with such a cordial welcome. What a source of felicity to us all it is, that the annals of our native State furnish so many instances of patriotism. Examples of heroism even, confined to neither sex, we may there find, which rival, if they do not surpass, any that can be produced in the history of the ancient States. As I have listened to the touching allusions which have been made by different speakers to the early incidents in New Hampshire history, as well as to some of a later date; to the strong love of country which characterized her hardy settlers; to the eloquence and sagacity of her men in council; to their brave and daring exploits on the tented field, and their readiness to relinquish everything for the public good; I indeed thought that our lovely mother State resembled in many respects that

"Clime of the unforgotten brave,

Whose land, from plain to mountain cave,
Was freedom's home or glory's grave."

[Applause.]