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THE SPIRITS' GATHERING,

BY G. W. ROBBINS.

They are gathering proudly round me,

The spirits of the brave,
From all earth's fields of glory,

And many a storied wave.
Of every age and nation,

The sons of every clime,
Who've twined the deathless laurel

Around the brow of time.

No banner floats above them,

No warlike shout is there; They march, as march the stately stars,

Through pathless fields of air. What charm hath broke the sternness

Of your long and deep repose, Where the warrior's arm forgot at length

To grapple with his foes ?

The war-cloud burst above ye,

Unheeded in its wrath;
The car of triumph rushed along,

Ye dreamed not of its path!
Why bide ye not the spirits' trump?

'Twill shake the earth and sea, And all the armies of the dead,

Shall bear that réveillé.

THE AZURE SMILE OF SUMMER EYES.

BY M'DONALD CLARKE,

The azure smile of summer eyes

May charm the young and gay,
But those where sorrow's shadow lies,

Like winter's sundown ray,
Are dearer to the desert heart

That all its loneness feels,
As answering tears will always start

Where gloomy music steals.". En

Our feelings darken, like the rays

Of twilight through a cloud,
Shading the bloom of boyhood's days,'

And hopes, unbreathed aloud : '
Hopes—that have cheered us but to cheat,

And gone-to come no more,
Save when in funeral dreams we meets

The forms, so loved of yore.

O sing the mourning songs, my child,

The bleak wild songs of old,
O'er which fond eyes have wept and smiled,

That now are closed, and cold.
Eyes—that life's weeping passions wet

Once with enjoyment bright,
Ere the beams of human bliss had set

In memory's moonless night.

That dreary music brings again

Dreams of far faded years, Ere happiness began to wane,

And hope was seen in tears;
Names that are heard on earth no more,

Dim on the burial-stone;
Faces—that looks of kindness wore,

Long-long to me unknown;

Hearts—that with wise attachment beat,

In every trial, true; Voices—that even reproof made sweet,

For love was melting through ; All that gave childhood's hour its charm,

Embalmed a mother's name, When to her grave, at midnight's calm,

Remembrance often came.

Then sing the dark old songs that speak

Of sorrow's faithful dead,
And sweeter tears will cool my cheek

Than pleasure ever shed;
For he who lives a little while

In this false world of ours, Will find them worth the richest smile

That warms but-Fortune's bowers.

Smiles glitter round the velvet path

Of wealth's voluptuous home, Yet vanish-when the thunder's wrath

And trouble's tempest come;

But tears are purer tests of truth

Keep old affections bright,
Long after we outlive our youth,

And life 's-in waneing light.

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Like a sun-gilded lake, in whose waters are glassed

The forms of the roses that bloom on its shore, Thy soul-mirrored love; but death's gloomy wing passed,

And ruffled the wave till it mirrored no more. Thy flight was at twilight; the sun's golden glare

Had paled at the death of a beautiful day; But one beam, like an angel, seemed lingering there,

To light thy dear spirit in beauty away.

Farewell! the sad tears that I weep for thee now,

Are the last that my spirit shall wring from its gloom; For thy death shed a promising light o'er my brow,

That showed a glad land 'neath the veil of the tomb! I'll join thee, my bride! where eternity's bow

Its iris-hued light on our union shall pour; And the spirits that death disunited below,

Shall mingle in Heaven, to sever no more!

UNFURL OUR STANDARD HIGH.

BY OWEN GRENLIFFE WARREN.

UNFURL our standard high!

Its glorious folds shall wave
Where'er the land looks to the sky,

Or ocean's surges lave!
And when, beneath its shade, the brave,

With patriotic ire,
Combat for glory or the grave,

It shall their breasts inspire
With that chivalric spark which first
Upon our foes in terror burst!

Unfurl the stripes and stars !

They evermore shall be
Victorious on the field of Mars-

Triumphant on the sea !

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