THE BARD.

BY ALONZO LEWIS.

The three primary privileges of the bards.

Maintenance wherever they go;

That no unsheathed weapon be borne in their presence And that their testimony be preferred to all others.

TRIADS OF BARDISM.

O, would the days were come again,
The brave old days of ancient time:
When men, uncursed by lust of gain,
Looked kindly on the poet's rhyme !
When king and peasant, prince and peer,
Confessed the minstrel's mighty sway;
When men could worth and mind revere,
The mind that led up virtue's way.
The dagger's blade, the flashing sword,
Were sheathed if but the bard came by;
And haughty look and angry word,

Grew calm and soft as summer's sky!

The mighty ocean heaves and swells
Less proudly than the poet's heart;
Within his breast a beauty dwells,

In which no selfish thought has part!
He sleeps, and on his waking mind
A vision full of glory beams;
Such as of old had power to bind

The gifted Hebrew's holy dreams!
The mighty dead, the good and wise
Of ages past, converse with him;
And light is in his lofty skies,

When all the lower world is dim!

The secret halls of paradise,

On his blessed sight are opened wide;
And all in truth's domain that lies,
Is viewed as in some crystal tide!

O, could the poet's thoughts prevail,
Would error sway the hearts of men?
No-falsehood's deadly reign would fail,
And all be truth and love again!

OUR CAUSE.

Ye who have not enlisted in the temperance ranks, who look idly on while our great reform

"Has grasped the world by either pole

To shake it to its centre; ""

we call upon you to unloose your folded arms and embrace our cause. We pray you "Come over and help us." Above all assume not to look down upon us. You are solemnly bound to give your influence to the cause. We care not how high your station in life; you cannot soar above principle. You cannot go beyond accountability. You cannot mount so high, as not to see all around you, the good influences of this cause. Turn which way you will, its spirit is about you. You cannot shut your ear to its voice; nor your heart to its influence. Ten thousand hearts are this moment swelling with gratitude for its good work. Ten thousand homes, but yesterday the abodes of misery and sin, are now fountains of happiness. Where yesterday were heard curses and groans, to-day go up thanksgiving and praise. We seem to hear the beating of happy hearts. The sweet voices of children which once were silenced by an imbruted father, now peal forth in merry shouts, to gladden the heart, and recall the scenes of childhood. The face of the wife which but now was furrowed with tears, and pale with sorrow, to-day is radiant with joy. "Almost she fears to think how glad she is." Her husband is a new man. They live a new life. They are rich in the wealth of affection. Life has a new zest. Home has a new meaning. The dove of Peace has rested on their dwelling. Nature herself comes forth to give them joy. The air of heaven is more invigorating. The vernal showers are more refreshing. The flowers are more fragrant. The sunshine is brighter. The stars are more lovely, and the smile of the moon more serene. The song of the birds has a new meaning. The labor of the day brings no fatigue. The repose of the night is sweeter. They were dead and are alive again, were lost and are found.

THOUGHTS ON PARTING.

Oh, what is life but one dull round,
Of parting tears and sad adieus,
of flowers just bursting from the ground,
For us to cherish, love, then lose.

Yet while those beauteous flowers we mourn, The tears which on their grave we shed, Shall cause, ere many months have flown, Fresh flowers to blossom o'er their bed.

So while we mourn the loss of hours,
Which on the wings of love have flown,
They'll cast their seeds like dying flowers,
And we shall reap what they have sown.

The viewless wind may bear away,
The spirit of the dying flower,
To dwell where kinder breezes play,

Or bloom in some more beauteous bower;—

And so beyond earth's narrow sphere

Will these blest hours their life renew,

Where never falls the parting tear,

And life is fresh as morning dew.

THE END.