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Let the pall, and the urn, and the nodding hearse-plume,
JAMES G. PERCIVAL.
T the heart of our country the tyrant was leaping,
To dye there the point of his dagger in gore,
And drove back that tyrant in shame from our shore :
And high on its fold
Was a legend that told
Long years have rollid on, and the sun still has brighten'd
Our mountains and flelds with its ruddiest glow;
With a flash as intense, in the face of the foe :
And still on its fold
Shine in letters of gold
And so it shall be, while eternity tarries,
And pauses to tread in the foot-steps of time; The bird of the tempest, whose quick pinion carries
Our arrows of vengeance, shall hover sublime : Wherever that flag on the wind shall be roll’d, All hearts shall be kindled with anger and shame,
If e'er they are told
They are careless and cold,
IX.-THE BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS.
CHILL was the breeze, ---nor yet the herald light,
Had chased the lingering shadow of the night;
Fate gave the word ! and now, by veterans led,
Fearless their stars unfurled, and, as the rock,
As near the bastioned wall the invader drew,
Sublime in majesty—matchless in might-
High on his sceptred perch our mountain bird, Amidst the din, the shout of Victory heardExulting heard, and from his eyrie came Through clouds of rolling dun, and sheets of flame; Renown's immortal meed he bore, and spread His ample pinions o'er the conqueror's headThe Hero of the West ;—to him assigned The glorious palm, and round his brows the guerdon twined.
X.-E PLURIBUS UNUM.-OUR COUNTRY'S MOTTO.
CAPT. J. W. CUTTER.
In that flag by our country unfurled,
Like a rainbow adorning the world ;
By a deed that our fathers have done;
In their motto of “Many in one."
From the hour when those patriots fearlessly flung
That banner of starlight abroad,
As they clung to the promise of God.
On the fields where our glory was won,
O, perish the heart or the hand that would mar
Our motto of “Many in one."
’Mid the smoke of the contest—the cannon's deep roar
How oft it hath gathered renown !
When the cross and the lion went down.
Yet the hearts that were striking below
And they stopped not to number the foe.
From where our green mountain-tops blend with the sky,
And the giant St. Lawrence is rolled,
Like the dream of some prophet of old,
Not this boundless dominion alone,
And their motto of “Many in one,”
We are many in one while there glitters a stàr,
In the blue of the heavens above;
When they gaze on that motto of love.
Over tempest, and battle, and wreck ;
’Neath the blood on the slippery deck.
The oppressed of the earth to that standard shall fly,
Wherever its folds shall be spread ;
Where its stars shall float over his head.
Its millions of cycles has run;
To the rest of the world we are one.
Then up with our flag ! let it stream on the air !
Though our fathers are cold in their graves ; They had hands that could strike, they had souls that could dare,
And their sons were not born to be slaves !
Our millions shall rally around;
When its stars shall be trailed on the ground.
XI.--THE LANDING OF COLUMBUS.
THE sai!s were furl'd ; with many a melting close,
, Solemn and slow the evening anthem rose, — Rose to the Virgin. 'Twas the hour of day When setting suns o'er summer seas display A path of glory, opening in the west To golden climes and islands of the blest; And human voices on the silent air Went o'er the waves in songs of gladness there ! Chosen of men ! 'Twas thine at noon of night First from the prow to hail the glimmering light, (Emblem of Truth divine, whose secret ray Enters the soul and makes the darkness day!) Pedro ! Rodrigo ! there methought it shone ! There—in the west ! and now, alas, 'tis gone ! 'Twas all a dream ! we gaze and gaze in vain ! But mark and speak not, there it comes again! It moves !—what form unseen, what being there With torch-like lustre fires the murky air ? His instincts, passions, say, how like our own! Oh, when will day reveal a world unknown ?'' Long on the deep the mists of morning lay, Then rose, revealing as they rolled away Half-circling hills, whose everlasting woods Sweep with their sable skirts the shadowy floods ; And say, when all, to holy transport given, Embraced and wept as at the gates of heaven,When one and all of us, repentant, ran, And, on our faces, bless'd the wondrous man,Say, was I then deceived, or from the skies, Burst on my ear seraphic harmonies ? “Glory to God !" unnumber'd voices sung, “Glory to God !” the vales and mountains rung, Voices that hail'd creation's primal morn, And to the shepherds sung a Saviour born. Slowly, bareheaded, through the surf we bore The sacred cross, and kneeling kiss'd the shore.
That word since then hath shone on high,
It is our country's name !
The banner of her fame ?
The spirits of the heroic dead,
Would curse the dastard son
The charter which they won.
From vast Niagara's gurgling roar
From east to western wave,
“The Union we must save !"
The God of nations, in whose name
Will bless our fond endeavor
We will preserve forever!
EDWARD C. JONES. A British officer sent to negotiate an exchange of prisoners, was conducted into Marion's encainpment. There the scene took place which is here commemorated The young officer was so deeply affected by the sentiments of Marion, that he subsequently resigned his commission and retired from the British service,
HEY sat on the trunk of a fallen pine, and their plate was a piece of bark,
And the sweet potatoes were super-fine, though bearing the embers' mark ; But Tom, with the sleeve of his cotton shirt, the embers' had brushed away,
And then to the brook, with a step alert, he hied on that gala day. The British officer tried to eat, but his nerves were out of tune,
And ill at ease on his novel seat, while absent both knife and spoon, Said he, you give me but Lenten fare, is the table thus always slim?
Perhaps with a Briton you will not share the cup with a flowing brim !
Then Marion put his potato down, on the homely plate of bark
He had to smile, for he could not frown, while gay as the morning lark ; 'Tis a royal feast I provide to-day, upon roots we rebels dine,
And in Freedom's service we draw no pay, is that of ethics thine?
And, said he, with a firm, undaunted crest, our trust is in God on high !
And noble and firm is the soldier's tread, in the face of his country's foes.