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While my unnumbered brethren toiled and bled,
That I should dream away th’ entrusted hours
On rose leaf beds, pampering the coward heart
With feelings all too delicate for use?”
S. T. ColemndGE.

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Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1848, BY B. B. MUSSEY & C 0. In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.



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I LovE the old melodious lays
Which softly melt the ages through,

The songs of Spenser's golden days,

Arcadian Sidney's silvery phrase,

Sprinkling our noon of time with freshest morning dew.

Yet, vainly in my quiet hours
To breathe their marvellous notes I try;

I feel them, as the leaves and flowers

In silence feel the dewy showers,
And drink with glad still lips the blessing of the sky.

The rigor of a frozen clime,
The harshness of an untaught ear,

The jarring words of one whose rhyme

Beat often Labor's hurried time,
Or Duty’s rugged march through storm and strife, are here.

Of mystic beauty, dreamy grace,
No rounded art the lack supplies;

Unskilled the subtle lines to trace

Or softer shades of Nature's face,

I view her common forms with unanointed eyes.

State University of Iowa

Nor mine the seer-like power to show The secrets of the heart and mind;

To drop the plummet-line below

Our common world of joy and woe,

A more intense despair or brighter hope to find.

Yet here at least an earnest sense Of human right and weal is shown;

A hate of tyranny intense,

And hearty in its vehemence,

As if my brother's pain and sorrow were my own.

Oh Freedom l if to me belong Nor mighty Milton's gift divine, Nor Marvel's wit and graceful song, Still with a love as deep and strong As theirs, I lay, like them, my best gifts on thy shrine ! A*, 11th mo., 1847.

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