3. They fought, like brave men, long and well: His few surviving comrades saw His smile, when rang their proud hurrah, Then saw in death his eyelids close Like flowers at set of sun. 4. Come to the bridal chamber, Death! That close the pestilence, are broke, With banquet-song and dance, and wine,- The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier, Of agony, are thine. 5. But to the Hero, when his sword Has won the battle for the free, The thanks of millions yet to be. Greece nurtured in her glory's time, We tell thy doom without a sigh; That were not born to die! CLIII. THE PEN AND THE PRESS. 1. YOUNG GENIUS walked out by the mountain and streams, Entranced by the power of his own pleasant dreams, Till the silent-the wayward-the wandering thing Found a plume that had fallen from a passing bird's wing: 2. But its magical use he discovered not yet, Till he dipp'd its bright lips in a fountain of jet; For it spoke to the world in a language of flame: The peaceful-the pure-the victorious PEN! 3. Young Genius went forth on his rambles once more, He searched the rude rock, and with rapture he found As he molded the ore into characters strange, Till his thoughts and his efforts were crown'd with success: 4. The Pen and the Press, blest alliance! combin'd CLIV. THE BOYS. OLIVER W. HOLMES. This selection was addressed to the class of 1829, in Harvard College, some thirty years after their graduation. The author, who retains the freshness and joyousness of youth, addresses his classmates as "boys." 1. HAS there any old fellow got mixed with the boys? If there has, take him out, without making a noise. 2. We're twenty! We're twenty! Who says we are more? He's tipsy,-young jackanapes !-show him the door! "Gray temples at twenty"?—Yes! white if we please: 3. Was it snowing I spoke of? Excuse the mistake! Look close, you will see not a sign of a flake! We want some new garlands for those we have shed, 4. We've a trick, we young fellows, you may have been told, Of talking (in public) as if we were old: That boy we call "Doctor," and this we call "Judge": It's a neat little fiction,-of course it's all fudge. 5. That fellow's the "Speaker," the one on the right: "Mr. Mayor," my young one, how are you to-night? That's our "Member of Congress," we say when we chaff: There's the "Reverend "-what's his name?-don't make me laugh. 6. That boy with the grave mathematical look Made believe he had written a wonderful book, And the Royal Society thought it was true! So they chose him right in,—a good joke it was too! 7. There's a boy, we pretend, with a three-decker brain, That could harness a team with a logical chain; When he spoke for our manhood in syllabled fire, We called him "The Justice," but now he's the "Squire." 8. And there's a nice youngster of excellent pith: Fate tried to conceal him by naming him Smith; But he shouted a song for the brave and the free,Just read on his medal, "My country,' ""of thee"! 9. You hear that boy laughing? You think he's all fun; But the angels laugh, too, at the good he has done: The children laugh loud as they troop to his call, And the poor man that knows him laughs loudest of all! 10. Yes, we're boys,—always playing with tongue or with pen; 11. Then here's to our boyhood, its gold and its gray! CLV.-ASPIRATIONS OF THE HEAVEN-BORN SPIRIT. 1. WHEN the young Eagle with exulting eye, MRS. HEMANS 2. No! still through clouds he wings his upward way, And shall the spirit, on whose ardent gaze The day-spring from on high hath poured its blaze, Of earth-born light, that sheds a treacherous gleam. What bright exchange, what treasure shall be given, CLVI.-THE UNION OF THE STATES. EDMUND RANDOLPH. 1. I HAVE labored for the continuance of the unionthe rock of our salvation. I believe that as sure as there is a God in heaven, our safety, our political happiness, and existence, depend on the "UNION OF THE STATES;” and that, without this union, the people of this and other States, will undergo the unspeakable calamities which discord, faction, turbulence, war, and bloodshed, have produced in. other countries. The American spirit ought to be mixed with American pride—pride to see the union magnificently triumph. 2. Let it not be recorded of America, that, after having performed the most gallant exploits, after having overcome the most astonishing difficulties, and after having gained the admiration of the world by their incomparable valor and policy, they lost their acquired reputation,—their national consequence and happiness,-by their own indiscretion. Let no future historian inform posterity that they wanted wisdom and virtue to concur in any regular, efficient government. Should any writer, doomed to so disagreeable a task, feel the indignation of an honest historian, he would reprehend and recriminate our folly with equal severity and justice. 3. Catch the present moment: seize it with avidity and eagerness; for it may be lost, never to be regained. If the union be now lost, I fear it will remain so forever. When I maturely weigh the advantages of the union, and the dreadful consequences of its dissolution: when I see safety on my right, and destruction on my left: when I behold respectability and happiness acquired by the one, but annihilated by the other, I can not hesitate to decide in favor of the UNION. CLVII.-TO THE REVOLUTIONARY VETERANS. DANIEL WEBSTER. [At the laying of the corner-stone of the Bunker Hill Monument, June 17, 1825,] 1. WE hold still among us some of those who were active agents in the scenes of 1775, and who are now here, from every quarter of New England, to visit once more, and under circumstances so affecting,-I had almost said so overwhelming, this renowned theatre of their courage and patriotism. Venerable men! you have come down to us from a former generation. Heaven has bounteously lengthened out your lives, that you might behold this joyous day. You are now, where you stood, fifty years ago, this very hour, with your brothers, and your neighbors, shoulder to shoulder, in the strife for your country. 2. Behold, how altered. The same heavens are indeed over your heads: the same ocean rolls at your feet; but all else how changed! You hear now no roar of hostile cannon, you see now no mixed volumes of smoke and flame |