SIR HUMPHREY GILBERT.

Sir Humphrey Gilbert.

SOUTHWARD with fleet of ice

Sailed the corsair Death;

Wild and fast blew the blast,

And the east-wind was his breath.

His lordly ships of ice

Glisten in the sun;

On each side, like pennons wide,
Flashing crystal streamlets run.

His sails of white sea-mist

Dripped with silver rain;

But where he passed there were cast Leaden shadows o'er the main.

Eastward from Campobello

Sir Humphrey Gilbert sailed; Three days or more seaward he bore, Then, alas! the land-wind failed.

Alas! the land-wind failed,

And ice-cold grew the night;

And nevermore, on sea or shore, Should Sir Humphrey see the light.

He sat upon the deck,

The Book was in his hand; "Do not fear! Heaven is as near," He said, "by water as by land!"

In the first watch of the night,
Without a signal's sound,

Out of the sea, mysteriously,

The fleet of Death rose all around.

The moon and the evening star

Were hanging in the shrouds;

Every mast, as it passed,

Seemed to rake the passing clouds.

They grappled with their prize,
At midnight black and cold!
As of a rock was the shock;
Heavily the ground-swell rolled.

Southward through day and dark,
They drift in close embrace,

With mist and rain, o'er the open main;
Yet there seems no change of place.

SIR HUMPHREY GILBERT.

Southward, forever southward,

They drift through dark and day; And like a dream, in the Gulf Stream Sinking, vanish all away.

H. W. LONGFELLOW.

Concord Hymn.

Sung at the completion of the Battle Monument,
April 19, 1836.

ΒΥ

Y the rude bridge that arched the flood, Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, Here once the embattled farmers stood,

And fired the shot heard round the world.

The foe long since in silence slept;

Alike the conqueror silent sleeps;

And Time the ruined bridge has swept

Down the dark stream which seaward creeps.

On this green bank, by this soft stream,
We set to-day a votive stone,

That memory may their deed redeem,
When, like our sires, our sons are gone.

Spirit, that made those heroes dare

To die, and leave their children free, Bid Time and Nature gently spare

The shaft we raise to them and thee.

R. W. EMERSON.

TO AMERICA.

to America.

WHAT, cringe to Europe! Band it all in one, Stilt its decrepit strength, renew its age,

Wipe out its debts, contract a loan to wage Its venal battles, and, by yon bright sun, Our God is false, and liberty undone,

If slaves have power to win your heritage!

Look on your country, God's appointed stage, Where man's vast mind its boundless course shall

run:

For that it was your stormy coast He spread—

A fear in winter; girded you about

With granite hills, and made you strong and dread.

Let him who fears before the foemen shout,

Or gives an inch before a vein has bled,
Turn on himself, and let the traitor out!

G. H. BOKER.