To hear the tempest-trumpings loud

And see the lightning lances driven, When strive the warriors of the storm,

And rolls the thunder-drum of heaven,—
Child of the Sun! to thee 'tis given
To guard the banner of the free;
To hover in the sulphur-smoke,
To ward away the battle-stroke,
And bid its blendings shine afar,
Like rainbows on the cloud of war,
The harbingers of victory!

Flag of the brave! thy folds shall fly,
The sign of hope and triumph high,
When speaks the signal trumpet tone,
And the long line comes gleaming on.
Ere yet the life-blood, warm and wet,
Has dimmed the glistening bayonet,
Each soldier's eye shall brightly turn
To where thy sky-born glories burn;
And, as his springing steps advance,
Catch war and vengeance from the glance:
And, when the cannon-mouthings loud
Heave in wild wreaths the battle-shroud,
And gory sabres rise and fall

Like shoots of flame on midnight's pall,
Then shall thy meteor glances glow,

And cowering foes shall fall beneath
Each gallant arm that strikes below
That lovely messenger of death.

Flag of the seas! on ocean's wave
Thy stars shall glitter o'er the brave.
When Death, careering on the gale,
Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail,
And frighted waves rush wildly back,
Before the broadside's reeling rack,
Each dying wanderer of the sea
Shall look at once to heaven and thee,
And smile to see thy splendors fly,
In triumph, o'er his closing eye.

Flag of the free heart's hope and home!
By angel hands to Valor given!

Thy stars have lit the welkin dome,

And all thy hues were born in heaven.
Forever float that standard sheet!

Where breathes the foe but falls before us,
With Freedom's soil beneath our feet,

And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us?

64. LOOK ALOFT.-J. Lawrence.

In the tempest of life, when the wave and the gale
Are around and above, if thy footing should fail-
If thine eyes should grow dim, and thy caution depart―
"Look aloft," and be firm, and be fearless of heart.
If the friend who embraced in prosperity's glow,
With a smile for each joy and a tear for each woe,
Should betray thee when sorrows, like clouds, are arrayed,
"Look aloft" to the friendship which never shall fade.

Should the visions which hope spreads in light to thine eye,
Like the tints of the rainbow, but brighten to fly,
Then turn, and, through tears of repentant regret,
"Look aloft" to the sun that is never to set.

Should they who are nearest and dearest thy heart-
Thy friends and companions-in sorrow depart,
"Look aloft" from the darkness and dust of the tomb,
To that soil where "affection is ever in bloom."

And oh, when Death comes in his terrors, to cast
His fears on the future, his pall on the past,

In that moment of darkness, with hope in thy heart,
And a smile in thine eye, "LOOK ALOFT," and depart.

65. FALL OF WARSAW, 1794.-Thomas Campbell.

O sacred Truth! thy triumph ceased awhile,
And Hope, thy sister, ceased with thee to smile,
When leagued Oppression poured to Northern wars
Her whiskered pandours and her fierce hussars
Waved her dread standard to the breeze of morn,
Pealed her loud drum, and twanged her trumpet horn:

Tumultuous horror brooded o'er her van,

Presaging wrath to Poland - and to man!

Warsaw's last champion from her heights surveyed Wide o'er the fields a waste of ruin laid

O Heaven! he cried, my bleeding country save!
Is there no hand on high to shield the brave?
Yet, though destruction sweep these lovely plains,
Rise, fellow-men! our country yet remains!
By that dread name, we wave the sword on high,
And swear for her to live! - with her to die!

He said; and on the rampart heights arrayed
His trusty warriors, few, but undismayed;
Firm paced and slow, a horrid front they form,
Still as the breeze, but dreadful as the storm;
Low, murmuring sounds along their banners fly,—
"Revenge, or death!"—the watchword and reply;
Then pealed the notes, omnipotent to charm,
And the loud tocsin tolled their last alarm!

In vain, alas! in vain, ye gallant few!
From rank to rank your volleyed thunder flew;-
Oh, bloodiest picture in the book of Time,
Sarmatia fell, unwept, without a crime;
Found not a generous friend, a pitying foe,
Strength in her arms, nor mercy in her woe!

Dropped from her nerveless grasp the shattered spear,
Closed her bright eye, and curbed her high career.
Hope, for a season, bade the world farewell,

And Freedom shrieked, as Kosciusko fell!

O righteous Heaven! ere Freedom found a grave, Why slept the sword, omnipotent to save? Where was thine arm, O Vengeance! where thy rod, That smote the foes of Sion and of God?

Departed spirits of the mighty dead!

Ye that at Marathon and Leuctra bled!

Friends of the world! restore your swords to man,
Fight in his sacred cause, and lead the van!
Yet for Sarmatia's tears of blood atone,
And make her arm puissant as your own!
Oh, once again to Freedom's cause return
The patriot Tell,- the Bruce of Bannockburn!

Yes, thy proud lords, unpitied land! shall see
That man hath yet a soul,- and dare be free!
A little while, along thy saddening plains,
The starless night of Desolation reigns;
Truth shall restore the light by Nature given,
And, like Prometheus, bring the fire of heaven!
Prone to the dust Oppression shall be hurled,

Her name, her nature, withered from the world!

219. Illustrative: References to man and nature. As a rule, on objects referred to, use a downward bend or inflection (§ 50), and sometimes the circumflex (§§ 69, 70). These objects should be articulated distinctly, which will tend to make the predominating Terminal stress (§ 101) short and sharp, or change it to Initial (§ 100). When, again, there is much Drift (§ 154), the Terminal will become Median stress (§ 102).

Orotund Quality (§ 135).

66. SUFFERINGS AND DESTINY OF THE PILGRIMS.

Edward Everett.

Methinks I see it now, that one | solitary, | adventurous vessel, the Mayflower of a forlorn hòpe, freighted with the prospects of a future | státe, and bound across the unknown | sea. I behold it pursuing, with a thousand | misgivings, the uncertain, the tedious m 8 RC up and prone

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ter surprises them on the deep, but brings them not the sight of the

wished-for shore. I see them nów, scantily | supplied with provisions, crowded almost to suffocation | in their ill-stored prison, dem tr R C and w to mf RC

layed by calms, pursuing a circuitous route; and now driven in fury h R C pr

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before the raging témpest, on the high and giddy wave. The awful

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heard; the ship léaps, as it were, madly, from billow to bìllow; the

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ocean breaks, and settles with ingulfing floods over the floating

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dèck, and béats, with deadening, shìvering wéight, against the

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staggered vessel. I see them, escáped from these périls, pursuing their all but desperate | undertáking, and landed, at last, after a

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few months' | passage, on the ice-clad rocks | of Plymouth,—

weak | and weary | from the voyage, | poorly | ármed, | scantily |

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provisioned, without | shelter, without | méans, surrounded by hostile tribes.

Shut, now,

the volume of history, and tell me, on any principle of human probability, what shall be the fate of this handful of ad

venturers? Tell me, man of military science, in how many months

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were they all swept off by the thirty savage tribes enumerated within the early limits of New England. Tell me, politician, how lòng did this shadow of a cólony, on which your conventions and

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treaties had not smiled, lànguish on the distant coast? Student of

history, compare for me the baffled | projects, the deserted | sèttle

ments, the abandoned | advèntures, of other | times, and find the

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parallel of this! Was it the winter's stórm, beating upon the houseless heads of women and children? was it hard | labor and spare | méals? was it disease? was it the tómahawk? was it the deep | málady of a blighted | hópe, a rúined | énterprise, and a broken | héart, |áching, in its last | móments, at the recollection of the

loved and left, beyond the séa?- -was it some, or all of these united,

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that hurried this forsaken company to their melancholy fate? And

is it possible that néither of these causes, that not all | combined,

were able to blást | this bud | of hópe! Is it possible that from a

beginning so feeble, so frail, so worthy not so much of admirátion

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as of pity, there has gone forth a progress | so steady, a growth | so Во h and wider

wonderful, | an expansion | so àmple, a reality | so impòrtant, a