Then come back to Erin, Māvoŭrneěn, Māvoŭrneĕn, Claribel "Come Back to Erin." It requires only true manhood which is born of cultivation and civilization to appreciate anything which is beautiful, either of art or nature. And even the careless, the indifferent, and the impatient lover of business will frequently turn aside and listen to such delicious songs of love as Ever of Thee I'm Fondly Dreaming," by Linley, "Her Bright Smile Haunts Me Stilf," by Carpenter, or "Love Not," by Caroline Norton. The field of song is one of the finest, and every poet has entered it, and many have told in song their tales of joy or woe that will never die. Burns sang of his "Highland Mary," and nothing in all of his wonderful productions is superior to it. "Mary of Argyle" by Nelson, is a beautiful It is mixed iambic and anapestic meter, but the presong. vailing foot is iambic. We select the first stanza : I have heard the māvis singing Thăn thě dew-drop on the rōse; And thine artless, winning smile, Bōnny Mary of Årgyle. Only Friends and Nothing More," by Septimus Winner, one of the famous song writers of the New World, is a very pretty song. Alice Hawthorne who is accredited with the words was Winner's mother-Hawthorne being her maiden name. Out of respect for his mother, her talented and gifted son has named her as the authoress of some of the most charming and delightful of songs. One, "The Mocking-Bird," is world renowned, on account of the delicious melody of the music, and also the words of the song. The stanza selected from " Only Friends and Nothing More," is iambic rhythm. Wě mět ǎs manỹ hāve běfōre Nor wished nor hōped to meet again; With days of pleasure ōr of pain. Yět paused when pārting at the door; We lingered with å sigh, but still We lingered with ǎ sigh, but still Ås only friends ånd nothing more. Old songs that still live and are in touch with the popular heart are many, but the quaint ones, the expressive ones, those that possess a distinctiveness of their own, are not so numerous as one would suppose. An old English song, a war song, entitled "I Will Hang My Harp on a Willow Tree," is such an one. The measure is mixed, but the iambus is the prevailing foot. The anapest, however, is also found in almost every line. We select the first stanza: I'll hāng mỹ hārp on ǎ willow tree, My peaceful hōme has no charm för mē, The Lady I lōve will sōon bě ǎ bride, With ǎ diădēm on her brōw. Ŏh! why did shě flätter mỹ bōyish pride, Ŏh! why did she flatter mỹ bōyish pride, The four stanzas composing this grand old song are all first-class, although a little different from the war music of the present time. There is, however, something about the air that is fine, and music and words will still continue to find old as well as young admirers. The Civil War of the United States produced many great songs-songs that stir the souls of men. Charles S. Hall's "John Brown's Body" will still go marching on. It caught the public feeling of the North-the public sentiment. Dixie," the great song of the South was composed by Gen. Albert N. Pike, the music by Dan D. Emmett. The music found a general response, not only in the South, but also in the North, and every school boy sang the song. The words are iambic rhythm, and there is genuine music in every word, as well as every note. "Bonnie Blue Flag" was also one of the great songs of the South, and was written by H. McCarthy. It is mixed iambic and anapestic measure, the iambic foot prevailing. No song of the South was, however, greater in words and music than "My Maryland," written in 1861 by James R. Randall. We select the third stanza : Thou wilt not cōwer in the dust, Thy gleaming swōrd shåll nēvĕr rūst, Remember Carroll's sacred trust, We remember while a boy in college hearing Chaplain Charles C. McCabe, who had just been released from a Southern prison and was visiting at the home of that great and good uncle of his, Prof. L. D. McCabe, of the Ohio Wesleyan University, sing the "Battle Hymn of the Republic." The song is by one of the grandest of womankind, Julia Ward Howe. Nothing we have ever heard found a greater response. As Chaplain McCabe's voice went up it thrilled the very soul. The chorus was caught by all present, and men and women sang in the old William Street Church upon that occasion who never sang before. The song is in the iambic rhythm. We select the first stanza. Mine eyes have seen the glōry of the coming of the Lord; He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath ǎre stōred: He hath loosed the fateful lightning ōf His terrible swift swōrd. His truth is marching on. Song writing, while it may not be the greatest conception of the poet's mind, is one that may serve to keep his memory green. It requires feeling, tenderness and sympathy to write the sweet songs that must endure forever. SACRED SONGS. How often have we listened in former days to good old hymns, designated by the minister as Long Meter, Short Meter, or Particular Meter. We did not then understand, or could we tell just what was meant by it. When, however, some good brother would start the tune, we could distinguish and recognize the old familiar sound; for in those days tunes were scarce. When we heard the following iambic stanza: Ŏ where shåll rest be found, Rest for the weary soul? 'Twĕre vain the ocean's depths to sōund, Ŏr pierce to either pōle. Montgomery. it was not difficult for us to distinguish the tune from the following, which the same brother, who always led the singing, would start, written in trochaic rhythm: 8s 75. Come, thou Fount of every blessing, Call for songs of loudest praise. Teach mě sōme mělōdious sōnnět, Sung by flāming tongues above : Praise the mount-I'm fixed upon it; Mount of thy redeeming love! Robinson. Our ear soon taught us that this was Particular or Odd Meter. We could distinguish it from the first, known as |