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By the sweat of others' foreheads

Living only to rejoice, While the poor man's outraged freedom

Vainly lifteth up its voice.

Truth and justice are eternal,

Born with loveliness and light; Sunset's wrongs shall never prosper

While there is a sunny right; God, whose world-wide voice is singing

Boundless love to you and me, Sinks oppression with its titles,

As the pebbles in the sea.

PROGRESS.-FRANK SOULE.

PROGRESS, Liberty's proud teacher;

Progress, Labor's sure reward; Of a purer faith the preacher,

Sanctioned by the world's accord; Crowned with attributes eternal,

Bounteous his liberal hand, Making Flora's gardens vernal, —

Spreading harvests o'er the land. In his eye the glance of Mars,

In his arm the strength of Jove,
Every mighty footstep jars

Kingly throne and priestly grove.
Gathering in his earnest train
Emblems of the sea and main,
Rushing steam and snowy sail,
Plow and harrow, scythe and flail,
Anvil and the glowing forge,
Rocker in the golden gorge,
Implements of Factory room-
Spinning-jenny, shuttle, loom,
Quarrier's chisel, crow, and sledge,
Blasting drill and wrenching wedge:

KATIE LEE AND WILLIE GREY.

143

From the ocean, from the valley,

Gathering up the trades of men, Calling Labor's sons to rally

To its fit pursuit again.
Calling on the muscles brawny

Made to labor and to dare-
On the arms, embrowned and tawny,

On those delicate and fair.
Calling all who feel the burden

Of the proud oppressor's rodCalling all to win the guerdon

Promised Industry, from God: Freedom for the soul aspiring,

Free limbs to the toiling train, Free-will to the mind untiring,

Free thoughts to the thinking brain.
Burdened with the long oppression

Dominant in every zone,
Here shall Freedom be Progression,

And its empire all our own.
Light the torch and raise the altar

For the toiling, teeming train: Where the weary hearts that falter.

Worshiping, grow strong again. Higher build each towering story,

Till it challenges the world; O’er it be the “Stars” of glory,

And the conquering “Stripes," unfurler; Till afar the gorgeous banner

Calls a jubilee to birth, And creation's free Hosanna

Floats like light around the earth.

KATIE LEE AND WILLIE GREY

Two brown heads with tossing curls,
Red lips shutting over pearls,
Bare feet white, and wet with dew,
Two eyes black and two eyes blue,

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THE OLD STORY.

145

“Will you trust me, Katie dear,-
Walk beside me without fear?
May I carry, if I will,
AN your burdens up the hill ?”
And she answered, with a laugh,
“No, but you may carry half.”
Close beside the little brook,
Bending like a shepherd's crook,
Washing with its silver hands
Late and early at the sands,
Is a cottage where to-day,
Katie lives with Willie Grey.
In a porch she sits, and lo!
Swings a basket to and from
Vastly different from the one
That she swung in years agone;
This is long and deep and wide,
And has-rockers at the side!

THE OLD STORY.-AGNES HOWARD,

Come, sit by me, Katy, and tell me

Of what he was talking last night,
When you stood at the gate till the moonbeams

Had quenched all the stars with their light?
You came back with cheeks glowing crimson,

And eyelashes glittering with tears,
And a smile, which, half sad, half triumphant,

Still over your sweet mouth appears.
Did he talk of the beanty of summer?

Or praise the wild rose's perfume ? Or speak of our arbors so rustic,

Where woodbine and jasmin bloom ? “He told you a story?" Oh! Did he ? Well, Katy dear, tell it to me. " You've almost forgot it ?" Already ! How very much flattered he'd be!

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