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Bow down, dear Land, for thou hast found release! Thy God, in these distempered days,

Hath taught thee the sure wisdom of his ways,

And through thine enemies hath wrought thy peace!

Bow down in prayer and praise! O Beautiful! my Country! ours once more!

Smoothing thy gold of war-dishevelled hair

O'er such sweet brows as never other wore,

And letting thy set lips, Freed from wrath's pale eclipse,

The rosy edges of their smile lay bare,

What words divine of lover or of poet

Could tell our love and make

thee know it,

Among the Nations bright beyond compare?

What were our lives without thee?

What all our lives to save thee?

We reck not what we gave thee;

We will not dare to doubt thee, But ask whatever else, and we will dare!

J. R. LOWELL.

CHICAGO.

OCT. 10, 1871.

BLACKENED and bleeding, helpless, panting, prone,

On the charred fragments of her shattered throne

Lies she who stood but yesterday alone.

Queen of the West! by some enchanter taught

To lift the glory of Aladdin's court, Then lose the spell that all that wonder wrought.

Like her own prairies by some chance seed sown,

Like her own prairies in one brief day grown,

Like her own prairies in one fierce night mown.

She lifts her voice, and in her pleading call

We hear the cry of Macedon to Paul,

The cry for help that makes her kin to all.

But haply with wan fingers may she feel

The silver cup hid in the proffered meal,

The gifts her kinship and our loves reveal.

BRET HARTE.

VI

PORTRAITS.- PERSONAL.

PICTURES.

"Who will not honor noble numbers, when
Verses outlive the bravest deeds of men?

-HERRICK.

PORTRAITS. -PERSONAL.-PICTURES.

NEBUCHADNEZZAR.

THERE was a king that much might,
Who Nabugodonosor hight.
To his empire and to his laws,
As who saith, all in thilke dawes
Were obeisant, and tribute bear,
As tho' God of earth he were:
Till that the high king of kings
Which seeth and knoweth all things,
Whose eye may nothing asterte,
The privates of man's heart
They speken and sound in his ear
As though they loud winds were,
He took vengeance of his pride.

GOWER: Confessio Amantis.

NESTOR TO HECTOR.

Nestor. -- I have, thou gallant Trojan, seen thee oft, Laboring for destiny, make cruel way

Through ranks of Greekish youth: and I have seen thee, As hot as Perseus, spur thy Phrygian steed, Despising many forfeits and subdue

ments,

When thou hast hung thy advanced sword i' the air, Not letting it decline on the declined:

That I have said to some my standers-by,

Lo, Jupiter is yonder, dealing life! And I have seen thee pause, and take thy breath

When that a ring of Greeks have hemmed thee in,

Like an Olympian wrestling: This have I seen

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Most dignifies the haver: if it be, The man I speak of cannot in the world

Be singly counterpoised. At sixteen years,

When Tarquin made a head for Rome, he fought

Beyond the mark of others: our then dictator,

Whom with all praise I point at, saw him fight

When with his Amazonian chin he drove

The bristled lips before him: he bestrid

An o'erpressed Roman, and in the consul's view

Slew three opposers: Tarquin's self he met,

And struck him on his knee: in that day's feats,

When he might act the woman in

the scene,

He proved best man of the field, and for his meed

Was brow-bound with the oak. His pupil age

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