The king of day's proud course was done;
His fire grew red, and dim, and soon
We parted with the glorious sun,
To welcome in the silvery moon;
The starts shed down their lustrous light
Upon the face of earth serene -
The bright, majestic queen…
If I had thought thou could'st have died,
I might not weep for thee!
But I forget, when by thy side,
That thou could'st mortal be.
It never through my mind had pass'd,
The time would e'er be o'er,
And I on thee should look my last,
Have you ever stood in the crowded street,
In the glare of the fitful lamp,
And marked the tread of the million feet
In their quaintly musical tramp?
As the surging throng move to and fro,
'Tis a pleasant sight, I ween,
To mark the figures that…
Brightly Freedom's mourn is breaking;Hopes that slumber'd are awaking;Gloom, from souls oppressed, is taking
Flights before its rays!
See the flag of Freedom nearing!Starry emblem, oh how cheering!Long we waited thy appearing.
Banner of the…
Is this the land our fathers loved?
The freedom which they toiled to wine?
Is this the soil whereon they moved?
Are these the graves they slumber in?
Are we the dons by whom is borne The mantle which the dead have worn? And shall we crouch above…
The following Parody was written by a gentleman who formerly resided at the South.Come, saints and sinners, hear me tell,How pious priests whip Jack and NellAnd women buy, and children sell,And preach all sinners down to hell,
And sing of heavenly…
Now, wife and children, let's be gay,My work is done, and here's the pay:"Twas hard to earn, but never mind it,Hope rear'd the sheaf, and peace shall bind it!Six days I've toiled, and now we meetTo share the welcome weekly treatOf toast and tea, of…
A truly affecting and instructive incident, which can hardly fail to come home to one's bosom with salutary force."Mother," said a little sick son, about four years of age, "will you pray? - I can't say 'Our Father' now."----Pray, mother, pray, for…
COLUMBIA'S Eagle claps her wings,
Our banner proudly waves;
Still southern breezes onward bear,
The shrieks of fettered slaves.
The stripes, the chains of Afric's sons
Have writ a fearful doom;
Hark! even now they chant the dirge,