In arms the Austrian phalanx stood,

A living wall, a human wood!

A wall, where every conscious stone
Seemed to its kindred thousands grown;
A rampart all assaults to bear,

Till time to dust their frames should wear;
A wood, like that enchanted grove
In which with fiends Rinaldo strove,
Where every silent tree possessed
A spirit prisoned in its breast,
Which the first stroke of coming strife
Would startle into hideous life:
So dense, so still, the Austrians stood,
A living wall, a human wood!
Impregnable their front appears,
All horrent with projected spears,
Whose polished points before them shine,
From flank to flank, one brilliant line,
Bright as the breakers' splendors run
Along the billows to the sun.

Opposed to these, a hovering band
Contended for their native land:
Peasants, whose new-found strength had broke
From manly necks the ignoble yoke,
And forged their fetters into swords,
On equal terms to fight their lords,
And what insurgent rage had gained
In many a mortal fray maintained :
Marshaled once more at Freedom's call,
They came to conquer or to fall,
Where he who conquered, he who fell,
Was deemed a dead, or living, Tell!
Such virtue had that patriot breathed,
So to the soil his soul bequeathed,
That wheresoe'er his arrows flew
Heroes in his own likeness grew,
And warriors sprang from every sod
Which his awakening footstep trod.

And now the work of life and death
Hung on the passing of a breath;
The fire of conflict burnt within,
The battle trembled to begin:
Yet, while the Austrians held their ground,
Point for attack was nowhere found;
Where'er the impatient Switzers gazed,
The unbroken line of lances blazed:
That line 't were suicide to meet,
And perish at their tyrants' feet,
How could they rest within their graves,
And leave their homes the homes of slaves?
Would they not feel their children tread
With clanging chains above their head?

Pale with his passing soul, she went on still to

a second:

He was a grave, hard man, whose years by dungeons were reckoned.

Wounds in his body were sore, wounds in his

life were sorer.

"Art thou a Romagnole?" Her eyes drove lightnings before her.

and came.

tighten the cord

Able to bind thee, O strong one, - free by the stroke of a sword.

mont lion

'Neath Gregory's throne a spider swings
And snares the people for the kings:
"Luther is dead; old quarrels pass;

The stake's black scars are healed with grass";
So dreamers prate ;- did man e'er live
Saw priest or woman yet forgive?
But Luther's broom is left, and eyes
Peep o'er their creeds to where it lies.
Spin, spin, Clotho, spin!
Lachesis, twist! and Atropos, sever!
In the shadow, year out, year in,
The silent headsman waits forever!

Smooth sails the ship of either realm,
Kaiser and Jesuit at the helm ;
But we look down the deeps, and mark
Silent workers in the dark,

There's freedom at thy gates, and rest
For earth's down-trodden and opprest,
A shelter for the hunted head,
For the starved laborer toil and bread.
Power, at thy bounds,

Stops, and calls back his baffled hounds.

O fair young mother! on thy brow Shall sit a nobler grace than now. Deep in the brightness of thy skies, The thronging years in glory rise, And, as they fleet,

Drop strength and riches at thy feet.

Thine eye, with every coming hour,
Shall brighten, and thy form shall tower;
And when thy sisters, elder born,
Would brand thy name with words of scorn,
Before thine eye

Upon their lips the taunt shall die.

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT,

COLUMBIA.

COLUMBIA, Columbia, to glory arise,
The queen of the world, and the child of the skies!
Thy genius commands thee; with rapture behold,
While ages on ages thy splendors unfold.
Thy reign is the last and the noblest of time,
Most fruitful thy soil, most inviting thy clime;
Let the crimes of the east ne'er encrimson thy
name,

Be freedom and science and virtue thy fame.

To conquest and slaughter let Europe aspire ;
Whelm nations in blood, and wrap cities in fire;
Thy heroes the rights of mankind shall defend,
And triumph pursue them, and glory attend.
A world is thy realm; for a world be thy laws
Enlarged as thine empire, and just as thy cause;
On Freedom's broad basis that empire shall rise,
Extend with the main, and dissolve with the
skies.

Fair Science her gates to thy sons shall unbar, And the east see thy morn hide the beams of her star;

New bards and new sages unrivaled shall soar

The graces of form shall awake pure desire,
And the charms of the soul ever cherish the fire;
Their sweetness unmingled, their manners refined,
And virtue's bright image, enstamped on the
mind,

With peace and soft rapture shall teach life to glow,

And light up a smile on the aspect of woe.

Thy fleets to all regions thy power shall display,
The nations admire, and the ocean obey;
Each shore to thy glory its tribute unfold,
And the east and the south yield their spices and
gold.

As the dayspring unbounded thy splendor shall flow,

And earth's little kingdoms before thee shall bow, While the ensigns of union, in triumph unfurled, Hush the tumult of war, and give peace to the world.

Thus, as down a lone valley, with cedars o'erspread,

From war's dread confusion, I pensively strayed, The gloom from the face of fair heaven retired; The wind ceased to murmur, the thunders expired;

Perfumes, as of Eden, flowed sweetly along, And a voice, as of angels, enchantingly sung : "Columbia, Columbia, to glory arise,

The queen of the world, and the child of the skies!"

TIMOTHY DWIGHT.

AMERICA TO GREAT BRITAIN.

ALL hail thou noble land,

Our Fathers' native soil!
O, stretch thy mighty hand,
Gigantic grown by toil,

O'er the vast Atlantic wave to our shore!
For thou with magic might
Canst reach to where the light
Of Phoebus travels bright

The world o'er !

The Genius of our clime

From his pine-embattled steep Shall hail the guest sublime; While the Tritons of the deep