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14. To the Ocean.
Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean--roll!
Thou glorious mirror / wliere the Almighty's form
Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime
15. Pride in Dress.
How proud we are, how fond to show
Our clothes, and call them rich and new,
That very clothing, long before.
16. Little Mary.
"I wish I was a kitten,” said little Mary to her mother, one day, “I wish I was a kitten ; then I could play all the time, running, and jumping, and rolling a ball. O, how pretty she looks ! see, ma, unly see her play!”
17. The American Flag.
Flag of the free hearts' only home,
By angel hands to valor given!
And all thy hues were born in heaven,
Where breathes the foe but falls before us;
And freedom's banner streaming o'er us.
18. The Eagle.
Yon eagle! ah, how joyously he soars up to the glorious heavens ! the bird of liberty! the bird of America !
His throne is on the mountain top,
His fields the boundless air;
The skies, his dwellings are.
Warsaw's last champion from her height surveyed,
8. High on a throne of royal state, which für
Outshone the wealth of Ormus and of Ind;
21. The Thunderstorm.
Mark the storm; and as it nearer comes, and rolls its awful bur. den on the wind, the lightnings flash a larger curve, and more the uoise astounds; till overhead, a sheet of livid flame, discloses wide ; then shuts, and opens wider; still expansive, wrapping ether in a blaze.
22. The Music of Ocean. Great Ocean, too, that morning thou the call of retribution heardst, and reverently to the last trumpet's voice in silence listened. Great Ocean ! strongest of creation's sons, unconquerable, unreposed, untired, that rolled the wild, profound, eternatobass in Nature's anthem, and made music such as pleased the ear of God.
23. The Lonely Walk. Nor is the hour of lonely walk forgot in the wide desert, where the view was large; where nature sowed, herself, and reaped her crops; whose garments were the clouds; whose minstrels, brooks ; whose lamps, the moon and stars; whose organ-choir, the voice of many waters; whose banquets, morning dews; whose heroes, storms; whose warriors, mighty winds; whose lovers, flowers; whose orators, the thunderbolts of God; whose palaces, the everlasting hills; whose ceiling, heaven's unfathomable blue.
24. The Cuckoo,
Hail! beauteous stanger of the wood, attendant on the spring ; Now heaven repairs thy rural seat, and woods thy welcome sing.
Sweet bird! thy bower is ever green,
Thy sky is ever clear;
No winter in thy year.
We'd make, with social wing,
Companions of the spring.
When night, with wings of starry gloom,
O’ershadows all the earth and skies,
Is sparkling with unnumbered eyes,
27. The Grave-(Two Voices.) First Voice. How frightful the grave! how deserted and drear!
With the howls of the storm-wind-the creaks of the
And the white bones all clattering together! Second Voice. How peaceful the grave! its quiet how deep;
Its zephyrs breathe calmly, and soft is its sleep,
And flowerets perfume it with ether.
28. Forest Hymn.
Father, thy hand
29. The Seasons.
These as they change, Almighty Father! these
30. The Modern Belle. The daughter sits in the parlor, and rocks in her easy chair; She is clad in her silks and satins, and jewels are in her hair; She winks and giggles and simpers, and simpers and giggles and winks, And though she talks but little, 'tis vastly more than she thinks.
31. Small Talk.
Ladics and Gentlemen : You have probably heard of Sam. Foote, the comedian. If you have not, it is out of my power to tell you anything about him, only that he had one leg, and his name was Samuel; or, to speak more poetically, one leg he had, and Samuel was his name. This Foote wrote a farce called “The Alderman,” by which he undertook to ridicule a well-fed magistrate of the city of London. The magistrate called upon the player, and reprimanded him severely for his presumption, adding, “It is my duty to take people off.” “You shall see how soon I shall take myself off," said Foote. So out the room he goes, as if to prepare, and the alderman sat waiting, and—waiting, and waiting, and I've forgotten the rest of the story!
0, it is all very well for you ; you can go to sleep! You have no thought of your poor, patient wife, and your own dear children! You think of nothing but lending umbrellas ! Men, indeed l-call themselves lords of creation! Pretty lords ! when they can't take care of an umbrella!
33. For War.
In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free; if we mean to preserve, inviolate, those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending; if we mean not basely to abandon this noble struggle, in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged our selves NEVER to abandon, until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained, we must fight. I repeat it, sir, WE MUST FIGHT An appeal to arms, and to the God of Hosts, is all that is left ns.