BOSTON HYMN.

READ IN MUSIC HALL, JANUARY 1, 1863.

THE word of the Lord by night

To the watching Pilgrims came, As they sat by the seaside;

And filled their hearts with flame.

God said, "I am tired of kings,
I suffer them no more;
Up to my ear the morning brings
The outrage of the poor.

"Think ye I made this ball

A field of havoc and war,
Where tyrants great and tyrants small
Might harry the weak and poor?

"My angel, his name is Freedom,-
Choose him to be your king;
He shall cut pathways east and west,
And fend you with his wing.

"Lo! I uncover the land

Which I hid of old time in the West, As the sculptor uncovers the statue When he has wrought his best;

"I show Columbia, of the rocks Which dip their foot in the seas, And soar to the air-borne flocks

Of clouds, and the boreal fleece.

"I will divide my goods;

Call in the wretch and slave: None shall rule but the humble, And none but Toil shall have.

"I will have never a noble,

No lineage counted great;

Fishers and choppers and ploughmen Shall constitute a state.

"Go, cut down trees in the forest,
And trim the straightest boughs;
Cut down the trees in the forest,
And build me a wooden house.

"Call the people together,

The young men and the sires, The digger in the harvest field, Hireling, and him that hires;

"And here in a pine state-house They shall chocse men to rule In every needful faculty,

In church, and state, and school.

"Lo now! if these poor men
Can govern the land and sea,
And make just laws before the sun,
As planets faithful be!

"And ye shall succour men;
'Tis nobleness to serve;

Help them who cannot help again:
Beware from right to swerve.

I break your bonds and masterships,
And I unchain the slave:

Free be his heart and hand henceforth
As wind and wandering wave.

"I cause from every creature
His proper good to flow :
As much as he is and doeth,
So much he shall bestow.

"But, laying hands on another

To coin his labour and sweat, He goes in pawn to his victim For eternal years in debt.

"To-day unbind the captive, So only are ye unbound;

Lift up a people from the dust,—
Trump of their rescue, sound!

Pay ransom to the owner,
And fill the bag to the brim.
Who is the owner? The slave is owner,
And ever was. Pay him.

"O North! give him beauty for rags,

And honour, O South! for his shame; Nevada! coin thy golden crags

With Freedom's image and name.

"Up! and the dusky race

That sat in darkness long,Be swift their feet as antelopes, And as behemoth strong.

"Come, East and West and North,

By races, as snow-flakes,

And carry my purpose forth

Which neither halts nor shakes.

"My will fulfilled shall be ;
For, in daylight or in dark,
My thunderbolt has eyes to see
His way home to the mark."

UNA.

ROVING, roving, as it seems,
Una lights my clouded dreams;
Still for journeys she is dressed;
We wander far by east and west.

In the homestead, homely thought.;
At my work I ramble not;

If from home chance draw me wide,
Half-seen Una sits beside.

In my house and garden-plot,
Though beloved, I miss her not;
But one I seek in foreign places,
One face explore in foreign faces.

At home a deeper thought may light
The inward sky with chrysolite,
And I greet from far the ray,
Aurora of a dearer day.

But if upon the seas I sail,
Or trundle on the glowing rail,
I am but a thought of hers,
Loveliest of travellers.

So the gentle poet's name

To foreign parts is blown by fame;
Seek him in his native town,

He is hidden and unknown.

SOLUTION.

I AM the Muse who sung alway
By Jove, at dawn of the first day.
Star-crowned, sole-sitting, long I wrought
To fire the stagnant earth with thought:
On spawning slime my song prevails,
Wolves shed their fangs, and dragons scales;
Flushed in the sky the sweet May-morn,
Earth smiled with flowers, and man was born.
Then Asia yeaned her shepherd race,
And Nile substructs her granite base,-
Tented Tartary, columned Nile,-
And, under vines, on rocky isle,
Or on wind-blown sea-marge bleak,
Forward stepped the perfect Greek :
That wit and joy might find a tongue,
And earth grow civil, Homer sung.

Flown to Italy from Greece,
I brooded long, and held my peace,
For I am wont to sing uncalled,
And in days of evil plight
Unlock doors of new delight;
And sometimes mankind I appalled
With a bitter horoscope,

With spasms of terror for balm of hope.
Then by better thought I lead
Bards to speak what nations need.
So I folded me in fears,

And Dante searched the triple spheres,
Moulding nature at his will,

So shaped, so coloured, swift or still,
And, sculptor-like, his large design
Etched on Alp and Apennine.

Seethed in mists of Penmanmaur,
Taught by Plinlimmon's Druid power,
England's genius filled all measure
Of heart and soul, of strength and pleasure,
Gave to the mind its emperor,

And life was larger than before:
Nor sequent centuries could hit

Orbit and sum of Shakspeare's wit.
The men who lived with him became
Poets, for the air was fame.

Far in the North, where polar night
Holds in check the frolic light,
In trance upborne past mortal goal
The Swede Emanuel leads the soul.

Through snows above, mines underground,

The inks of Erebus he found;

Rehearsed to men the damned wails

On which the seraph music sails.

In spirit-worlds he trod alone,

But walked the earth unmarked, unknown. The near by-stander caught no sound,-Yet they who listened far aloof