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10. Happy if celestial favor

Smile upon the high endeavor;

Happy if it be thy call

In the holy cause to fall.

A. H. EVERETT.'

IV.

58. OUR NATIONAL BANNER.

LL hail to our glōrious ensign! courage to the heart, and strength to the hand, to which, in all time, it shall be intrusted! May it ever wave in honor, in unsullied glory, and patriotic hope, on the dome of the capitol, on the country's stronghold, on the entented plain, on the wave-rocked topmast.

2. Wherever, on the earth's surface, the eye of the American shall behold it, may he have reason to bless it! On whatsoever spot it is planted, there may freedom have a foothold, humanity a brave champion, and religion an altar.

3. Though stained with blood in a righteous cause, may it never, in any cause, be stained with shame. Alike, when its gôrgeous folds shall wanton in lazy holiday triumphs on the summer breeze, and its tattered fragments be dimly seen through the clouds of war, may it be the joy and the pride of the American heart.

4. First raised in the cause of right and liberty, in that cause ǎlōne may it forever spread out its streaming blazonry to the battle and the storm. Having been bōrne victoriously across the continent, and on every sea, may vîrtue, and freedom, and peace forever föllōw whêre it leads the way. EVERETT.?

1 Alexander H. Everett, an American diplomatist, and accomplished man of letters, was born in Boston, March 19, 1792. He wrote much and well. For five years he was editor and proprietor of the "North American Review." He was U. S. Minister to the Netherlands, to Spain, and Commissioner to

China, where he died in Canton,
May 29, 1847.

2 Edward Everett, an American statesman, Ŏrator, and man of letters, brother of the preceding, was born in Dorchester, Mass., April 11, 1794. As a scholar, rhetorician, and orator, he had but few equals. He died in Boston, Mass., Jan. 15, 1865.

SECTION XIX.

I

69. THE EMIGRANT'S SONG.

ID ǎdieu to the homestead, adieu to the vale;

B memory give grief to the gale:

Thêre the hearths are unlighted, the embers are black,
Where the feet of the onward shall never tûrn back.
For as well might the stream that comes down from the mount,
Glancing up, heave the sigh to return to its fount;
Yet the lordly Ohio feels joy in his breast

As he follows the sun onward into the West.

2. Oh! to roam, like the rivers, through empires of woods,
Where the king of the eagles in majesty broods;

Or to ride the wild horse o'er the boundlèss domain,
And to drag the wild buffalo down to the plain;
There to chase the fleet stag, and to track the huge bear,
And to face the lithe1 panther at bay in his lâir,
Are a joy which alone cheers the pioneer's breast;
For the only true hunting-ground lies in the West!
8. Leave the tears to the maiden, the fears to the child,
While the future stands beckoning afar in the wild ;
For there Freedom, more fâir, walks the primeval2 land,
Where the wild deer all court the caress of her hand.
There the deep forèsts fall, and the old shadows fly,
And the palace and temple leap into the sky.
Oh, the East holds no place where the onward can rest,
And alone there is room in the land of the West!

H

II.

70. LIFE IN THE WEST.

READ.3

O! brothers-come hither and list to my story-
Měrry and brief will the narrative be:

1 Lithe, pliant; limber.

? Pri mē'val, primitive; belonging to the earliest times; original.

Thomas Buchanan Read, an American painter and poet, was born

in Chester Co., Pa., March 12, 1822. A new edition of his poetical works in a collected form appeared in 1860. His verse is musical and his descrip. tions beautiful. He died May, 1872.

Here, like a monarch, I reign in my glōry—

Måster am I, boys, of all that I see.

Where once frowned a forèst, a gärden is smiling-
The meadow and moorland are marshes no mōre;
And thêre eûrls the smoke of my cottage, beguiling
The children who cluster like grapes at the door.
Then enter, boys; cheerly, boys, enter and rest;
The land of the heart is the land of the West.

2. Talk not of the town, boys-give me the broad prăirie; Where man, like the wind, roams impulsive and free; Behold how its beautiful colors all

vary,

Like those of the clouds, or the deep-rolling sea!
A life in the woods, boys, is even as changing:
With proud independence we season our cheer;
And those who the world are for happinèss ranging,
Won't find it at all, if they don't find it here.
Then enter, boys; cheerly, boys, enter and rest;
I'll show you the life, boys, we live in the West.

3. Here, brothers, secure from all tûrmoil and danger,
We reap what we sow; for the soil is our own:
We spread hospitality's board for the stranger,
And câre not a fig for the king on his throne.
We never know want, for we live by our labor,
And in it contentment and happiness find;
We do what we can for a friend or a neighbor,
And die, boys, in peace and good-will to mankind.
Then enter, boys; cheerly, boys, enter and rest;
You know how we live, boys, and die in the West!
GEO. P. MORRIS.

III.

71. THE BISON TRACK.

1.

TRIKE the tent! the sun has risen; not a vapor streaks the dawn,

STRIK

And the frosted prairie brightens to the westward, far and wan:

Prime afresh the trusty rifle-sharpen well the hunting spear;

For the frozen sod is trembling, and a noise of hoofs I hear!

2.

Fiercely stamp the tethered1 horses, as they snuff the morning's fire; Their impatient heads are tossing, and they neigh with keen desire. Strike the tent! the saddles wait us- -let the bridle-reins be slackFor the prairie's distant thunder has betrayed the bison's track.

3.

See! a dusky line approaches: hark! the onward surging rōar,
Like the din of wintry breakers on a sounding wall of shōre!
Dust and sand behind them whirling, snort the fōremost of the van,
And their stubborn horns are clashing through the crowded căr ́avan.

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Now the storm is down upon us: let the maddened horses go!

We shall ride the living whirlwind, thōugh a hundred leagues it blow! Though the cloudy manes should thicken, and the red eyes' angry glare Lighten round us as we gallop through the sand and rushing air!

5.

Myriad hoofs will scar the prairie, in our wild, resistlèss race,
And a sound, like mighty waters, thunders down the desert space:
Yet the rein may not be tightened, nor the rider's eyes look back—
Death to him whose speed should slacken, on the maddened bisons'

track!

6.

Now the trampling herds are threaded, and the chase is close and warm
For the giant bull that gallops in the edges of the storm:
Swiftly hurl the whizzing lasso-swing your rifles as we run:

See! the dust is red behind him—shout, my comrades, he is won!

7.

Look not on him as he staggers-'tis the last shot he will need!
Mōre shall fall, among his fellows, ere we run the mad stampede '—
Ere we stem the brinded breakers, while the wolves, a hungry pack,
•Howl around each grim-eyed carcass, on the bloody bison track!

3

1 Těth'ered, confined with a rope or a chain, for feeding within certain limits.

2 Stǎm'pēde', a sudden fright seizing upon large bodies of cattle or horses, in droves or encampments upon the prairies, and leading them to run for many miles, until they often sink down or die under their terror;

TAYLOR.4

hence, any sudden flight caused by a panic.

3 Brin'ded, streaked; spotted ; having different colors.

4

Bayard Taylor, the noted American traveler and author, was born in Kennet Square, Chester Co., Penn., Jan. 11, 1825. He is an able and prolific writer both of prose and verse.

SECTION XX.

72. THE PINE-TREE SHILLINGS.

I.

APTAIN JOHN HULL was the mint-måster of Massachusetts, and coined all the money that was made there. This was a new line of businèss; for, in the earlier days of the colony, the current coinage consisted of gold and silver money of England, Portugal, and Spain. These coins being scârce, the people were often fōrced to barter their commodities, instead of selling them. For instance, if a man wanted to buy a coat, he perhaps exchanged a bear-skin for it. If he wished for a barrel of molasses, he might purchase it with a pile of pine bōards.

2. Musket-bullets were used instead of farthings. The Indians had a sort of money, called wampum, which was made of clam-shells; and this strange sort of specie was likewise taken in payment of debts, by the English settlers. Bank-bills had never been heard of. There was not money enough of any kind, in many parts of the country, to pay the salaries of the ministers; so that they sometimes had to take quintals of fish, bushels of corn, or cords of wood, instead of silver or gold.

3. As the people grew mōre numerous, and their trade one with another increased, the want of current money was still more sensibly felt. To supply the demand, the general court påssed a law for establishing a coinage of shillings, sixpences, and threepences. Captain John Hull was appointed to manufacture this money, and was to have about one shilling out of every twenty, to pay him for the trouble of making them.

4. Hereupon, all the old silver in the colony was handed over to Captain John Hull. The battered silver cans and tankards, I suppose, and silver buckles, and broken spoons, and silver buttons of worn-out coats, and silver hilts of swords that had figured at courts—all such curious old articles were doubtless thrown into the melting-pot together. But by far the greater part of the silver consisted of bullion 1 from the mines of South America, which the English buccaneers-who were little better

1 Bullion (bul'yun), uncoined gold or silver in the måss.

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