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A inotley cable soon Pat Jennings ties,
Where Spitalfields with real India vies.
Like Iris' bow, down darts the painted clew,
Starred, striped, and spotted, yellow, red, and blue,
Old calico, torn silk, and muslin new.
George Green below, with palpitating hand,
Loops the last kerchief to the beaver's band, -
Upsoars the prize ! The youth with joy unfeigned
Regained the felt, and felt what he regained;
While to the applauding galleries grateful Pat
Made a low bow, and touched the ransomed hat.



Hurry-skurry. Here it comes sparkling, And there it lies darkling; Now smoking and frothing Its tumult and wrath in, Till in this rapid race

On which it is bent,

It reaches the place Of its steep descent.


“How does the water
Come down at Lodore ?”
My little boy asked me

Thus, once on a time;
And moreover he tasked me
To tell him in rhyme.

Anon at the word,
There first came one daughter,
And then came another,

To second and third
The request of their brother,
And to hear how the water

Comes down at Lodore,
With its rush and its roar,

As many a time
They had seen it before.

So I told them in rhyme,
For of rhymes I had store;
And 't was in my vocation

For their recreation
That so I should sing ;
Because I was Laureate

To them and the King.

The cataract strong
Then plunges along,
Striking and raging

As if a war waging
Its caverns and rocks among ;

Rising and leaping,

Sinking and creeping,
Swelling and sweeping,
Showering and springing,

Flying and flinging,
Writhing and ringing,
Eddying and whisking,
Spouting and frisking,
Turning and twisting,

Around and around
With endless rebound :

Smiting and fighting,

A sight to delight in;

Confounding, astounding, Dizzying and deafening the ear with its sound.

From its sources which well
In the tarn on the fell ;

From its fountains

In the mountains,

Its rills and its gills;
Through moss and through brake,

It runs and it creeps
For a while, till it sleeps

In its own little lake.
And thence at departing,
Awakening and starting,
It runs through the reeds,

And away it proceeds,
Through meadow and glade,

In sun and in shade,
And through the wood-shelter,

Among crags in its flurry,

Collecting, projecting,
Receding and speeding,
And shocking and rocking,
And darting and parting,
And threading and spreading,
And whizzing and hissing,
And dripping and skipping,
And hitting and splitting,
And shining and twining,
And rattling and battling,
And shaking and quaking,
And pouring and roaring,
And waving and raving,
And tossing and crossing,
And flowing and going,
And running and stunning,
And foaming and roaming,
And dinning and spinning,
And dropping and hopping,
And working and jerking,
And guggling and struggling,
And heaving and cleaving,
And moaning and groaning ;

And glittering and frittering, And gathering and feathering,



And whitening and brightening, Wildly he started, — for there in the heavens be-
And quivering and shivering,

fore him
And hurrying and skurrying,

Fluttered and flew the original star-spangled And thundering and floundering;


Two objections are in the way of the acceptance of this and Dividing and gliding and sliding,

by the committee : in the first place, it is not an antbem at all: sec.

ondly, it is a gross plagiarism from an old Sclavonic war song of the And falling and brawling and sprawling,

primeval ages. And driving and riving and striving,

Next we quote from a
And sprinkling and twinkling and wrinkling,
And sounding and bounding and rounding,

And bubbling and troubling and doubling,

BY THE HON. EDWARD E-, OF BOSTON. And grumbling and rumbling and tumbling,

PONDEROUS projectiles, hurled by heavy hands, And clattering and battering and shattering;

Fell on our Liberty's poor infant head,

| Ere she a stadium had well advanced Retreating and beating and meeting and sheeting,

On the great path that to her greatness led ; Delaying and straying and playing and spraying,

Her temple's propylon was shatter-ed; Advancing and prancing and glancing and dan

wuan Yet, thanks to saving Grace and Washington, cing,

ling. Recoiling, turmoiling and toiling and boiling,

Her incubus was from her bosom hurled ;

| And gleaming and streaming and steaming and

And, rising like a cloud-dispelling sun, beaming,

She took the oil with which her hair was curla? And rushing and flushing and brushing and gush-10

Aushing and hmishing and mich. To grease the “hub” round which revolves the ing, And flapping and rapping and clapping and slap

This fine production is rather heavy for an "anthem, and contains

too much of Boston to be considered strictly national. To set ping,

an "anthem to music would require a Wagner, and even were : And curling and whirling and purling and really accommodated to a tune, it could only be whestled by the

populace: twirling, .

We now come to a And thumping and plumping and bumping and jumping,

NATIONAL ANTHEM. And dashing and flashing and splashing and

BY JOHN GREEN LEAF Wclashing; And so never ending, but always descending,

My native land, thy Puritanic stock Sounds and motions forever and ever are blending,

Still finds its roots firm bound in Plymouth Rouk; All at once and all o'er, with a mighty uproar,

And all thy sons unite in one grand wish, -
And this way the water comes down at Lodore.

To keep the virtues of Preserv-ed Fish.

Preserv-ed Fish, the Deacon stern and true,
Told our New England what her sons should do ;

And, should they swerve from loyalty and right,

Then the whole land were lost indeed in night.

The sectional bias of this "anthem " renders it unsuitable for use RECEIVED IN RESPONSE TO AN ADVERTISED | in that small margin of the world situated outside of New Lingua

Hence the above must be rejected.

Here we have a very curious


BY DR. OLIVER WENDELL Back in the years when Phlagstaff, the Dane, A DIAGNOSIS of our history proves was monarch

Our native land a land its native loves; Over the sea-ribbed land of the fleet-footed Its birth a deed obstetric without peer, Norsemen,

Its growth a source of wonder far and near. Once there went forth young Ursa to gaze at the heavens,

To love it more, behold how foreign shores Ursa, the noblest of all Vikings and horsemen. Sink into nothingness beside its stores.

Hyde Park at best - though counted ultra grandMusing he sat in his stirrups and viewed the The “Boston Common" of Victoria's land horizon,

The committee must not be blamed for rejecting the above after he Auro

reading thus far, for such an "anthem " could only be sung by .

college of surgeons or a Beacon Street tca-party. manner;

Turn we now to a

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In the beauty of the bilis Christ was born

across the sea, With a glory in his broom that transpipuus you

and me; as he died to make mon holy, het as die to

make man free While and is marching on.

Inha thard Home.


Page 1

A baby was sleeping . . . Samuel Lover 7 All in our marriage garden . . G. Massey 16
A barking sound the shepherd hears Wordsworth 211 | All in the Downs the fleet was moored John Gay 145
Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase !)

"All quiet along the Potomac," they say
Leigh Hunt 582

Mrs. Howland 381
A brace of sinners for no god . Peter Pindar 739 All that is like a dream . . . R. Buchanan 247
A cloud lay cradled near the setting sun John Wilson 593 All the world 's a stage . . . Shakespeare 615
A country life is sweet! . . . Anonymous 420 All thoughts, all passions, all delights Coleridge 81
Adam and Eve were, at the world's beginning

Aloft upon an old basaltic crag . F. 7. O'Brien 715

G Colman 728 Along the frozen lake she comes Anonymous 518
A dew-drop came, with a spark of flame Anonymous 654 | Although I enter not . . . Thackeray 45
A diagnosis of our history proves R.H. Newell 774 A man in many a country town we know G. Coiman 740
Adieu, adieu, my native shore . Byron

148 Amazing, beauteous change!

Doddridge 284
Adieu, adieu ! our dream of love . T.K. Hervey 145 A mighty fortress is our God (Translation of F. H.
A district school, not far away

7.W. Palmer 25 Hedge) . . . . Martire Luther 271
Ae fond kiss and then we sever. . Burns 143 A milkmaid, who poised a full pail 7. Taylor 671
Afar in the desert I love to ride . Thos. Pringle 231 A moment, then, Lord Marmion stayed Scott 388

Among the beautiful pictures . . Alice Carey 16
A fiend once met a humble man Rev. Mr. Maclellan 418 Among thy fancies tell me this . . R. Herrick 78
A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by Wordsworth 577 | A monk, when his rites sacerdotal were o'er
A footstep struck her ear . Scott


Fane Taylor 673
Again the violet of our early days Eben. Elliott 308 And are ye sure the news is true? W.7. Mickle 488
A generous friendship no cold medium knows

And hast thou sought thy heavenly home D. M. Moir 191

Pope's Iliad 31 And is the swallow gone? . . . Wm. Howitt 347
A girl, who has so many wilful ways · Miss Mulock 46

And is there care in heaven?. . Spenser 279
A good that never satisfies the mind Drummond 253 And is this - Yarrow? This the stream Wordsworth 330
Ah, Chloris, could I now but sit. . Sir C. Sedley 42 And let this feeble body fail . . Chis. Wesley 285
Ah! do not wanton with those eyes Ben Jonson 57 And now, unveiled, the toilet stands displayed
Ah, how sweet it is to love ! . . Dryden 56


Ah I little they know of true happiness Mac-Carthy 425 | And on her lover's arm she leant Tennyson 116
Ah ! my heart is weary waiting · · Mac-Carthy 305 And there two runners did the sign abide Wm. Morris 83
Ah, my sweet sweeting . . . Anonymous 49 And thou hast walked about . . Horace Smith 542
Ah, sweet Kitty Neil! . . Mac-Carthy 70 And wilt thou leave me thus?. , Sir T. Wyatt 150
Ah, then how sweetly closed those crowded days!

An exquisite invention this . . . Leigh Hunt 67

W. Allston 27 | Angel of Peace, thou hast wandered too long !
A hungry, lean-faced villain , . Shakespeare 561
Ah! what is love? It is a pretty thing Robert Greene 55 | A nightingale, that all day long. . Cowper 671
Ah! whence yon glare . . . Shelley 380 Announced by all the trumpets of the sky
Ah! who but oft hath marvelled why 7. G. Saxe 67

R. W. Emerson 319
Ah, yes, - the fight! Well, messmates, well

A noble peasant, Isaac Ashford, died. Geo. Crabbe 570

Anonymous 487 Arches on arches ! as it were that Rome Byron 533
Airs, that wander and murmur round W.C. Bryant 84
A jolly fat friar loved liquor good store Anonymous 733 Art thou a thing of mortal birth Fohn IV'ilson 590

Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers?
Alas ! how light a cause may move T. Moore 169

T. Dekker 419
Alas, that moon should ever beam T. Hood

As beautiful Kitty one morning was tripping
Alas! they had been friends in youth Coleridge 35

C. D. Shanly 79
Alas! what pity 't is that regularity G. Colman 742 As by the shore, at break of day T. Moore 456
Alice was a chieftain's daughter. . Mac-Carthy 123 A simple child . . . . . Wordsworth 14
A little in the doorway sitting . . T. Burbidge 11 As it fell upon a day . . . . R. Barnfield 349
A little onward lend thy guiding hand Milton 235 A soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers
All day long the storm of battle Anonymous 378

C. E. Norton 383
All grim and soiled and brown with tan Whittier

As once a Grecian maiden wove. . T. Moore 67
All hail! thou noble land . . W. Allston 444 A song for the plant of my own native West
All hail to the ruins, the rocks, and the shores !

W.W. Fosdick 362
Montgomery 471 | A song to the oak, the brave old oak H. F. Chorley 359

An exquisite

thou hast wandered to

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