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THE DESERTER.

THE DESERTER.

His cheek was pale, and wildly there Was seen the fearful blanch of wo; His eye was fixed, its lurid glare

Told of the heart's convulsive throe.

I heard the drum beat mournful knell,
The fatal moments swiftly sped-
I shuddered as the signal fell,

I saw him numbered with the dead!

To bear him to an early tomb,

Stern men were seen beside his bier; Unknown, he fell in youthful bloom, Forgotten was Affection's tear.

And such, accursed War! I said,

Thy ills, and such thy hateful stain; Nurtured by thee, the heart grows dead, And sighing Virtue pleads in vain.

THE COLOMBIAN FLAG.

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THE COLOMBIAN FLAG.

WHAT Meteor burns clear on the bosom of night, What trophy illumes the horizon afar?

"Tis the flag of the brave-beaming herald of light— The symbol of glory, Colombia's Star!

It waves o'er the fortress where tyranny's yoke Had crushed with oppression the soul of the Free;

On the ruins of crime where the death spell is broke,

It banners triumphant, Grenada! o'er thee.

In the valleys of Quito the symbol is seen,

The soil of the Patriot is dewed with a tear, It streams o'er the mountain with aspect serene, And the tempests of night in rebuke disappear; Afar to the breeze, see! it floats on the mast, Where Commerce unshackled, revives his domain,

The pledge of the future—the pride of the past, Full proudly it waves o'er the land and the main.

Let the tyrant's heart tremble when Liberty calls, His myrmidons shrink at the conqueror's name;

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appals,

WHO MAY ENTER HEAVEN.

While the watchword of Freedom the despot [claim. The Spaniard, restored, shall her honours proWe hail the proud flag to Columbia's strand,

Where the plaudit of millions bids welcome again

To the symbol of hope on the billow and land,
The triple striped banner of Peace and New
Spain !
1820.

WHO MAY ENTER HEAVEN?

NoT he, indulging vain pretence,
Who boasts some impulse given;

Nor he that braves Omnipotence,
Can hope to enter heaven.

The careless and the mad profane,
Possess no holy calm;

The heart that holds Religion vain

Can never taste its balm.

But he is blessed, whose thoughts are still

From proud presumption free;

Who loves mankind, and doth fulfil

That precept, Lord! to Thee.

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Occasioned by the death of H. J. Esq. who having purchased a ticket of admission to Peale's Painting of "The Court of Death," exhibiting in the Capitol at Albany; while in the act of crossing the threshold leading to the room, fell down and instantly expired.

THE serious wish was thine to view

His Court whose symbol is the tomb;

To scan the scenes that genius true

Had sketched with more than fancy's gloom.

Heaven heard the prayer-'twas worthy one
Longing for immortality;

And suddenly, thy labour done,
Called thee to its reality.

Yet shall not terror o'er thee rule,
Nor Death retain his boasted prize;

His Court was but the vestibule

That led thee to thy native skies.

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THE DYING YEAR.

THE DYING YEAR.

THOU dying Year! thou dying Year!
Have we not seen thee quickly fly?
Vision of days, but lately here,

We wake, and thou hast hurried by.
In fitful murmurings, sadly wild,

Thy dirge the sullen winds have sung; And Winter comes, thy weeping child, His fleecy mantle o'er him flung.

Prophet of ages! hoary seer!

Thou wast not seen where systems roll; When flew thy axle, Charioteer!

In noiseless triumph to its goal?
Suns, burning once, now quenched, no trace
Marked of thee, in infinity;

Nor the dim worlds that hang in space
Wrapt in their own eternity.

Thou wast-yet mortals know not whence;
Hast been enjoyed-thou art not here;
Thou'st vanished! gone for ever hence,
Yet we shall meet thee, deathless Year!

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