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The weak should always yield to might, The simple to the wise,

The spider, therefore, deems it right

To trap defenseless flies.

Let those whom nature's hand hath fitted

To serve this humble end,

Be not by fiery zealots pitted

To impiously contend

Against ther fate, in bold defiance
Of nature and her laws;

Worthies refrain from all alliance
With so unjust a cause.
Philanthropists should never aim,
By hostile demonstration,
To add fresh fuel to a flame,
In view of amelioration.
The end can never sanctify
Unholy means employed,
The law embraces man and fly,
And naught can make it void.
We, therefore, totally deprecate
... forms of intervention;
No allied powers can baffle fate,
Or thwart her fix'd intention.
Once more, we would reiterate
Our dragoɔ friends' suggestion,
Let no one dare to agitate
Again this dangerous question.
May gentle peace, while yonder sun
Brings life and warmth with day,

Shine 'e our paths, where'er we run

And rule our destiny."

Thus spake this cow'ring, servile crew, 'Gainst freedom's holy cause;

And then exultingly withdrew,

'Mid rapturous applause.

Resistless roll'd this mighty flood

Of suasive eloquence,

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While from the assembled multitude,
Arose the meek response:

May gentle peace, while yonder sun,
Brings life and warmth with day,
Shine o'er our paths, where'er we run,
And rule our destiny.

"Twas plain the wind had tuned her pipes

To quite a different air;

And they who would not dance to stripes,
Must follow the tune, 'twas clear.

E'en liberty's most ardent friends,
Seem'd favorably impressed,

And at last, to gain some private end,
Most cordially acquiesced.

The public weal demands," said they,

"Some honorable concession:

Let's give at least to tyranny

A peaceable possession.
Our only sacrifice will be

A weak and worthless tribe,

And by this compromise, you see,
Her boundaries we'll prescribe.
We hate these mad enthusiasts,
Who urge emancipation,

Without respect to grade or caste :
Away with agitation.

Its tendency has ever been,

The captive's bonds to tighten.

By precept we may hope to win,—
Example may enlighten.

Let each discordant note be tuned,
And let this strife be ended;

Time oft hath healed a deeper wound-
A wider breach hath mended.
Let every web that spiders spin,
To trap their harmless neighbor,
Be shunned as their besetting sin,
And drive these knaves to labor."


There is a time, when yet the mind is new, That thoughts half-fledged go forth on feeble wing And poised in ether, much bewildered, view Through fancy's glass, the gliding forms that spring From unseen hands, to float awhile in air, Then like the melting mists at early dawn, Give place to brighter forms of beauty rare, That ages past from mystery have drawn.

Oh, faithful time! what progeny is thine! The universe appeared at thy decree;

But who made thee, thou Artisan divine! Self-made, thou art, from all eternity. Presumptuous thoughts, abortions of the mind, Of sickly birth, and creatures of a day. How vain, to scan what God himself designed, And call his perfect work Time's progeny. Blind Fate did'st thou, through ever-during dark, Grope o'er the elements that formed this world, And strike from chaos first the electric spark, That lit up space where mad confusion whirled! Crude matter sublimed, and rolling nebulæ

Which time hath since reduced to radiant suns,

And from the foam, hath formed a galaxy,
That through high heaven's expanse unbroken runa


One summer's morn, as I strolled along,
With heart as free as the lark's gay song,
Plucking the wild sweet flowers, that grew
Where the maples their soft, deep shadows threw
I thought as I kissed from their glossy leaves
The crystal dew, how much there breathes
n nature of true piety,

Of love, and deep humility.

Through every fabric that Nature weaves
From the simple fern, with its drooping leaves,
To the giant oak that defies the blast,
(Yet meekly bends as the gales sweep past,)
From the clinging vine, that darkly crawls
'Mong ruined towers and broken walls,
That sigh as the night winds whisper of old-
Of deeds that the darkness hath not yet told;
Of impious man, who so sadly fell,

And made of this bright fair earth a hell.
No! not of the earth, 'tis the soul within
That makes for itself a world of sin,
The world without is a joyous one,

Busy and bright, 'neath a glorious sun.

From age remote, o'er a boundless waste,
Through the path of time this thread is traced";
Weaving the stars in a robe of light,
To clothe in beauty the silent night;
A chord of love and sympathy.
That vibrates through eternity.
Of such, the angel harps were strung,
When heaven's celestial choirs sung,
All glory, honor, and power be given,
To Him who reigns in earth and heaven.


How rights the ship, when the world goes merrily,
When sweet success crowns every wish;
Bright beams the sun, and the birds sing cheerily,
When showers of plenty fill our dish.

How rights the ship, as her sails catch greedily
Each prosperous wind that kindly blows,
Gaily sings the crew, when she glides on speedily,
O'er life's deep sea so sweet in reposc.

Night holds his watch 'neath a cloudless canopy,With hanging lamps o'er the bright sea's crest, Till young morning spreads, like a golden panoply, A flood of day o'er its glassy breast.

Sparkling like dew-drops distilled on sweet violets, Life's sea of light unruffled lies;

Away darts the ship o'er the silvery breast of it, Her white sails spread to the breeze, she flies.

Morning hath op'd those golden eyes of hers,

But scarce one glance o'er the world hath shone When far to the west a gathering cloud appears. Gleaning the darkness that night had strown.

How tosses the ship when the world goes crabbedly
When storms of deep affliction rise!

Loud shrieks the blast as the waves roll rapidly,
Till hope amid the tumult dies.

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