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The corner-stone lay of some new splendid super-
Structure, like that which to-day links his name
In the Union unending of Honor and Fame,
And found a new charity just for the care
Of these unhappy women with nothing to wear,
Which, in view of the cash which would daily be claimed,
The Laying-out Hospital well might be named ?
Won't Stewart, or some of our dry-goods importers,
Take a contract for clothing our wives and our daughters ?
Or, to furnish the cash to supply these distresses,
And life's pathway strew with shawls, collars, and dresses,
Ere the want of them makes it much rougher and thornier,
Won't some one discover a new California ?

O ladies, dear ladies, the next sunny day
Please trundle your hoops just out of Broadway,
From its whirl and its bustle, its fashion and pride,
And the temples of Trade which tower on each side,
To the alleys and lanes, where Misfortune and Guilt
Their children have gathered, their city have built;
Where Hunger and Vice, like twin beasts of prey,

Have hunted their victims to gloom and despair;
Raise the rich, dainty dress, and the fine broidered skirt,
Pick
your

delicate way through the dampness and dirt, Grope through the dark dens, climb the rickety stair To the garret, where wretches, the young and the old, Half starved and half naked, lie crouched from the cold; See those skeleton limbs, those frost-bitten feet, All bleeding and bruised by the stones of the street; Hear the sharp cry of childhood, the deep groans that swell

From the poor dying creature who writhes on the floor; Hear the curses that sound like the echoes of Hell,

As you sicken and shudder and fly from the door; Then home to your wardrobes, and say, if you dare, Spoiled children of fashion, -you 've nothing to wear!

And O, if perchance there should be a sphere
Where all is made right which so puzzles us here,

Where the glare and the glitter and tinsel of Time
Fade and die in the light of that region sublime,
Where the soul, disenchanted of flesh and of sense,
Unscreened by its trappings and shows and pretense,
Must be clothed for the life and the service above,
With purity, truth, faith, meekness, and love,
O daughters of Earth! foolish virgins, beware!
Lest in that upper realm you have nothing to wear!

WILLIAM ALLEN BUTLER

Antony and Cleopatra.

I Am dying, Egypt, dying,

Ebbs the crimson life-tide fast,
And the dark Plutonian shadows

Gather on the evening blast;
Let thine arms, O Queen, infold me;

Hush thy sobs and bow thine ear;
Listen to the great heart-secrets,

Thou, and thou alone, must hear.

Though my scarred and veteran legions

Bear their eagles high no more,
And my wrecked and scattered galleys

Strew dark Actium's fatal shore;
Though no glittering guards surround me,

Prompt to do their master's will,
I must perish like a Roman,

Die the great Triumvir still.

Let not Cæsar's servile minions

Mock the lion thus laid low;
'T was no foeman's arm that felled him

’T was his own that struck the blow,--
His who, pillowed on thy bosom,

Turned aside from glory's ray-
His who, drunk with thy caresses,

Madly threw a world away.

Should the base plebeian rabble

Dare assail my name at Rome,
Where

my
noble
spouse,

Octavia,
Weeps within her widowed home,
Seek her; say the gods bear witness-

Altars, augurs, circling wings-
That her blood, with mine commingled,

Yet shall mount the throne of kings.

As for thee, star-eyed Egyptian!

Glorious sorceress of the Nile, Light the path to Stygian horrors

With the splendors of thy smile.
Give the Cæsar crowns and arches,

Let his brow the laurel twine;
I can scorn the Senate's triumphs,

Triumphing in love like thine.

I am dying, Egypt, dying;

Hark! the insulting foeman's cry. They are coming! quick, my falchion!

Let me front them ere I die. Ah! no more amid the battle

Shall my heart exulting swellIsis and Osiris guard thee! Cleopatra, Rome, farewell !

WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE.

The Nautilus and the Ammonite.

THE nautilus and the ammonite

Were launched in friendly strife, Each sent to float in its tiny boat

On the wild, wide sea of life.

For each could swim on the ocean's brim,

And, when wearied, its sail could furl,

And sink to sleep in the great sea-deep,

In its palace all of pearl.

And theirs was a bliss more fair than this

Which we taste in our colder time; For they were rife in a tropic life

A brighter and better clime.

They swam 'mid isles whose summer smiles

Were dimmed by no alloy; Whose groves were palm, whose air was balm,

Where life was only joy.

They sailed all day through creek and bay,

And traversed the ocean deep;
And at night they sank on a coral bank,

In its fairy bowers to sleep.

And the monsters vast of ages past

They beheld in their ocean caves; They saw them ride in their power and pride,

And sink in their deep-sea graves.

And hand in hand, from strand to strand,

They sailed in mirth and glee;
These fairy shells, with their crystal cells,

Twin sisters of the sea.

But they came at last to a sea long past,

And as they reached its shore,
The Almighty's breath spoke out in death,

And the ammonite was no more.

So the nautilus now in its shelly prow,

As over the deep it strays,
Still seems to seek, in bay and creek,

Its companion of other days.

And alike do we, on life's stormy séa,

As we roam from shore to shore,
Thus tempest-tossed, seek the loved, the lost,

And find them on earth no more.

Yet the hope how sweet, again to meet,

As we look to a distant strand,
Where heart meets heart, and no more they part
Who meet in that better land.

G. F. RICHARDSON.

Carmen Bellicosum.

In their ragged regimentals
Stood the old Continentals,

Yielding not,
When the grenadiers were lunging,
And like hail fell the plunging

Cannon-shot;
When the files
Of the isles,

(rampant From ine smoky night encampment, bore the banner of the Unicorn,

[drummer, And grummer, grummer, grummer rolled th roll of the

Through the morn!

Then with eyes to the front all,
And with guns horizontal,

Stood our sires;
And the balls whistled deadly,
And in streams flashing redly

Blazed the fires;
As the roar

On the shore,
Swept the strong battle-breakers o'er the green-sodded acres

Of the plain; And louder, louder, louder cracked the black gunpowder,

Cracking amain!

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