AUGUSTINE JOSEPH HICKEY DUGANNE.

Born at Boston, Mass: 1823

THE POET AND THE PEOPLE.

SPOKE Well the Grecian, when he said that poems Were the high laws that sway'd a nation's mind— Voices that live on echoes

Brief and prophetic proems,

Opening the great heart-book of human kind!

Songs are a nation's pulses, which discover
If the great body be as nature will'd;
Songs are the spasms of soul,
Telling us when men suffer:

Dead is the nation's heart whose songs are still'd.

Lo! the firm poet is the Truth's dispenser—
Standing, like Heaven's high-priest, before its shrine;
And his high thoughts, like incense,
From his soul's golden censer,

Rise to God's throne-a sacrifice divine!

Stands he like SAMUEL, darkly prophesying,-
Threats he, like NATHAN, humbling Judah's king,—
Comes he as JOHN THE BAPTIST,

'Mid the wild desert crying,—
Still from his soul the impatient voice must spring.

Speaks he to senseless tyrants, who with scourges
Would curb the ocean of the human heart!—
Over their whips and fetters,

Rush his bold songs, like surges :
Forth from the caverns of deep thought they start.

Still for the PEOPLE-Still for Man and Freedom-
Boldly his Titan words the bard must speak;
Till his too long lost birthright

Shall be regain'd by EDOM

Till, to restore that right, JACOB shall ESAU seek!

LOVE'S EYES.

LIGHT of my life! thy glorious eyes
Like stars above my heart arise-
Like stars that shine in midnight skies.

Down in my bosom's deep they beam,
Like star-rays in some darksome stream,—
Reflected there, mine own they seem.

Reflected in my soul thou art—
And thy dear eyes of me are part:
By their pure light I read my heart.

Before their beams, so bright and clear,
My shadowy doubtings disappear;
And Hope is now where once was Fear.
Dear Eyes!-do not my heart forsake!
Shine, like the stars within the lake,-
Shine, and the darksome shadows break!

CHARLES GODFREY LELAND.
Born at Philadelphia 1824-

BREITMANN AND THE TURNERS.

HANS BREITMANN choin'd de Toorners

Novemper in de fall,

Und dey gifed a boostin' bender

All in de Toorner Hall.

Dere coom'd de whole Gesangverein

Mit der Liederlich Aepfel Chor,

Und dey blow'd on de drooms and strom'd on de fifes Till dey couldn't refife no more.

Hans Breitmann choin'd de Toorners,

Dey all set oop some shouts,

Dey took'd him into deir Toorner Hall,

Und poots him a course of shprouts ;

Dey poots him on de barrell-hell pars
Und shtands him oop on his head,
Und dey poomps de beer mit an enchine hose
In his mout' dill he's 'pout half tead!

Hans Breitmann choin'd de Toorners ;-
Dey make shimnastig dricks,
He stoot on de middle of de floor
Und put oop a fifdy-six;

Und den he trows it to de roof,

Und schwig off a treadful trink:

De veight coom toomple pack on his headt, Und ру shinks he didn't vink!

:

Hans Breitmann choin'd de Toorners :—
Mein Gott! how dey drink'd und shwore,-

Dere vas Schwabians und Tyrolers,
Und Bavarians by de score;

Some vellers coom'd from de Rheinland,

Und Frankfort-on-de-Main,

Boot dere vas only von Sharman dere,
Und he vas a Holstein Dane.

Hans Breitmann choin'd de Toorners,
Mit a Limpurg' cheese he coom;
Ven he open de box it schmell so loudt
It knock de musik doomb;
Ven de Deutschers kit de flavour,

It coorl de haar on dere head;
Boot dere vas dwo Amerigans dere;
Und, py tam! it kilt dem dead!

Hans Breitmann choin'd de Toorners;
De ladies coom'd in to see,—
Dey poot dem in de blace for de gals,
All in der gal-lerie :

Dey ashk-"Vhere ish der Breitmann?"
And dey dremple mit awe and fear
Ven dey see him schwingen py de toes,
A trinken lager bier.

R

:

Hans Breitmann choin'd de Toorners :-
I dells you vot, py tam!

Dey sings de great Urbummellied:
De holy Sharman psalm;
Und ven dey kits to de gorus

You ought to hear dem dramp!
It scared der Teufel down below
To hear de Dootchmen stamp.

Hans Breitmann choin'd de Toorners :-
By Donner! it vas grand,

Vhen de whole of dem goes a valkin'
Und dancin' on dere hand,

Mit de veet all wavin' in de air,

Gottstausend! vot a dricks!

Dill der Breitmann fall und dey all
Shoost like a row of bricks.

go down

Hans Breitmann choin'd de Toorners,
Dey lay dere in a heap,

And slept dill de early sonnen shine
Come in at de window creep;

And de preeze it vake dem from deir dream,
And dey go to kit deir feed :-

Here hat' dis song an Ende

Das ist DES BREITMANNSLIED.

BALLAD.

DER noble Ritter Hugo

Von Schwillensaufenstein

Rode out mit shpeer and helmet,

Und he coom to de panks of de Rhine.

Und oop dere rose a meer maid,

Vot hadn't got nodings on,

Und she say "Oh, Ritter Hugo!

Vhere you goes mit yourself alone?"

And he
says-
"I rides in de creenwood
Mit helmet und mit shpeer,
Till I cooms into em Gasthaus,
Und dere I trinks some beer."

Und den outshpoke de maiden
Vot hadn't got nodings on-
"I tont dink mooch of beoplesh
Dat goes mit demselfs alone;

"You'd petter coom down in de wasser,
Vere deres heaps of dings to see,
Und hafe a shplendid tinner

Und drafel along mit me:

"Dere you sees de fisch a schwimmin, Und you catches dem efery one:

So

sang dis wasser maiden

Vot hadn't got nodings on.

"Dere ish drunks all full mit money
In ships dat vent down of old;
Und you helpsh yourself, by dunder!
To shimmerin crowns of gold.

"Shoost look at dese shpoons und vatches! Shoost see dese diamant rings!

Coom down and full your bockets,

Und I'll giss you like avery dings.

"Vot you vantsh mit your schnapps und lager? Coom down into der Rhine!

Der ish pottles der Kaiser Charlemagne

Vonce fill'd mit gold-red wine!"

Dat fetch'd him, he shtood all shpell-pound;

She pool'd his coat-tails down,

She draw'd him oonder der wasser,

De maiden mit nodings on.