An angel stood and met my gaze,
Through the low doorway of my tent;

The tent is struck, the vision stays;
I only know she came and went.

O, when the room grows slowly dim, And life's last oil is nearly spent, One gush of light these eyes will brim,

Only to think she came and went.

TO W. L. GARRISON.

"Sometime afterward, it was reported to me by the city officers, that they had ferreted out the paper and its editor; that his office was an obscure hole, his only visible auxiliary a negro boy, and his supporters a few very insignificant persons of all colors." — H. G. Otis's Letter.

In a small chamber, friendless and unseen,

Toiled o'er his types one poor, unlearned young man; The place was dark, unfurnitured, and mean ;· Yet there the freedom of a race began.

Help came but slowly; surely no man yet
Put lever to the heavy world with less :
What need of help? He knew how types were set,
He had a dauntless spirit, and a press.

Such earnest natures are the fiery pith,

The compact nucleus, round which systems grow; Mass after mass becomes inspired therewith,

And whirls impregnate with the central glow.

O Truth! O Freedom! how are ye still born

In the rude stable, in the manger nursed! What humble hands unbar those gates of morn

Through which the splendors of the New Day burst!

What! shall one monk, scarce known beyond his cell,
Front Rome's far-reaching bolts, and scorn her frown?

Brave Luther answered YES; that thunder's swell
Rocked Europe, and discharmed the triple crown.

Whatever can be known of earth we know,

Sneered Europe's wise men, in their snail-shells curled ;

No, said one man in Genoa, and that NO

Out of the dark created this New World.

Who is it will not dare himself to trust?

Who is it hath not strength to stand alone?

Who is it thwarts and bilks the inward MUST?

He and his works, like sand, from earth are blown.

Men of a thousand shifts and wiles, look here!
See one straightforward conscience put in pawn

To win a world; see the obedient sphere
By bravery's simple gravitation drawn!

Shall we not heed the lesson taught of old,
And by the Present's lips repeated still,

In our own single manhood to be bold,
Fortressed in conscience and impregnable will?

We stride the river daily at its spring,

Nor, in our childish thoughtlessness, foresee What myriad vassal streams shall tribute bring, How like an equal it shall greet the sea.

O small beginnings, ye are great and strong,
Based on a faithful heart and weariless brain!
Ye build the future fair, ye conquer wrong,

Ye earn the crown, and wear it not in vain.

THE CHANGELING.

I HAD a little daughter,

And she was given to me To lead me gently backward

To the Heavenly Father's knee,

That I, by the force of nature,
Might in some dim wise divine
The depth of his infinite patience
To this wayward soul of mine.

I know not how others saw her,
But to me she was wholly fair,

And the light of the heaven she came from

Still lingered and gleamed in her hair;