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There is no Death! What seems so is transition.

This life of mortal breath
Is but a suburb of the life Elysian,
Whose portal we call Death.

Resignation.

Time has laid his hand Upon my heart, gently, not smiting it, But as a harper lays his open palm Upon his harp, to deaden its vibrations.

The Golden Legend. Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they

grind exceeding small; Though with patience He stands waiting, with exactness grinds He all. Retribution, From the Sinngedichte of Friedrich

Von Logau.
Sail on, O Ship of State !
Sail on, O Union, strong and great !
Humanity with all its fears,
With all the hopes of future years,
Is hanging breathless on thy fate !

The Building oj the Ship.

OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.

THE *HE freeman casting with unpurchased hand The vote that shakes the turrets of the land.

A Metrical Essay.

Ay, tear her tattered ensign down !

Long has it waved on high,
And many an eye has danced to see

That banner in the sky. A Metrical Essay.

Nail to the mast her holy flag,

Set every threadbare sail,
And give her to the God of storms,

The lightning and the gale.

Ibid.

Yes, child of suffering, thou mayest well be sure,
He who ordained the Sabbath loves the poor!

Urania.
And, when you stick on conversation's burrs,
Don't strew your pathway with those dreadful urs.

Ibid.

eyes

You think they are crusaders, sent

From some infernal clime,
To pluck the

of Sentiment,
And dock the tail of Rhyme,
To crack the voice of Melody,
And break the legs of Time.

The Music-Grinders.

JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.

AND what is so rare as a day in June ?

Then, if ever, come perfect days;
Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune,
And over it softly her warm ear lays.

The Vision of Sir Laun fal. This child is not mine as the first was,

I cannot sing it to rest,
I cannot lift it up fatherly

And bless it upon my breast. The Changeling

Yet it lies in my little one's cradle

And sits in my little one's chair,
And the light of the heaven she's gone to

Transfigures its golden hair.

Ibid.

To win the secret of a weed's plain heart.

Sonnet 25

Earth's noblest thing, a woman perfected.

Irene.

Truth for ever on the scaffold, Wrong for ever on the

throne.

The Present Crisis.

Before man made us citizens, great Nature made us

The Capture

men.

F. S. KEY. 1779-1843.

PRAISE
RAISE the Power that hath made and preserved

us a nation !
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto, ‘In God is our trust;'
And the star-spangled banner, O long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave !

The Star-spangled Banner.

6

346

GREENE-UHLAND-CRANCH.

ALBERT G. GREENE.

OLD Grimes is dead; that good old man,

We ne'er shall see him more:
He used to wear a long black coat,

All buttoned down before.

Old Grimes.

JOHN LOUIS UHLAND.

TAKE, O boatman, thrice thy fee;

Take,—1 give it willingly;
For, invisible to thee,
Spirits twain have crossed with me.

The Passage.

CHRISTOPHER P.: CRANCH.

THOι

HOUGHT is deeper than all speech;

Feeling deeper than all thought;
Souls to souls can never teach

What unto themselves was taught.

Stansas.

TOURNEUR-MILMAN-KEBLE.

347

CYRIL TOURNEUR.

A

DRUNKARD clasp his teeth, and not undo 'em
To suffer wet damnation to run through 'em.

The Revenger's Tragedy. Act üi. Sc. 1.

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AND the cold marble leapt to life a god,

The Belvidere A pollo. Too fair to worship, too divine to love.

Ibid.

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WHY should we faint and fear to live alone,

Since all alone, so Heaven has willed, we die, Nor even the tenderest heart, and next our own, Knows half the reasons why we smile and sigh.

The Christian Year. Twenty-fourth Sunday after Trinity.
’T is sweet, as year by year we lose
Friends out of sight, in faith to muse
How grows in Paradise our store.

Burial of the Dead.

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