Page images

You say that you "think I may guess it."
Yes, Katy, the story I know:

'Tis an old tale, yet always a sweet one;
I'm certain that you found it so.

'Twas new in the first days of Adam,

When, wandering through Eden's fair bowers, In Eve's little ear it was whispered,

While she, blushing, played with the flowers.

You're blushing, too; what is the matter?
Why, what are you crying about?
Your grandfather told your grandmother
The very same story, no doubt.

Just three little words tell this story;

What thousands of hearts they have thrilled!

How many with joy they have gladdened!

How many with sorrow have filled!

These three little words are,

"I love you!"

You see 'tis the very same tale

That you heard there last night by the woodbines, Beneath the bright moon's silvery vail.

Don't say I "know nothing about it:"
You know very well it is true;
But, Katy, my dear, did you tell him
The same story that he told you?


I COME, I come! ye have called me long,
I come o'er the mountains with light and song;
Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth,
By the wings which tell of the violet's birth,
By the primrose stars in the shadowy grass,
By the green leaves opening as I pass.


From the streams and founts I have loosed the chain;
They are sweeping on to the silvery main,
They are flashing down from the mountain brows,
They are flinging spray on the forest boughs,
They are bursting fresh from their sparry caves,
And the earth resounds with the joy of waves.

Come forth, O ye children of gladness, come!
Where the violets lie may now be your home.
Ye of the rose-cheek and dew-bright eye,
And the bounding footstep, to meet me fly;
With the lyre, and the wreath, and the joyous lay,
Come forth to the sunshine, I may not stay.

Away from the dwellings of careworn men,
The waters are sparkling in wood and glen;
Away from the chamber and dusky hearth,
The young leaves are dancing in breezy mirth;
Their light stems thrill to the wild-wood strains.
And youth is abroad in my green domains.


CITY of the West,

Built up in a minute,

Hurry, hurry, hurry,

Every thing within it:
Every nook and corner
Filled to overflowing,

Like a locomotive,
Everybody going!

Sandy city streets

Piled up full of lumber,

Buildings going up

Numbers without number;
Even hodmen hurry

With the bricks they bear;

Wagons thunder on

Through each thoroughfare.


Everybody goes

Fast as he can dash on, Never minding clothes, Etiquette, or fashion;Dry or muddy season, Rainy day or sunny, Everybody driving

Bargains to make money.

Englishmen and French,

Germans, Irish, Danish, Chattering Chinese,

Portuguese, and Spanish; Men of every nation,

Birds of every feather,
Honest men and rogues
Flustled all together!

Corners of the streets,
Auctioneers seen;
Bidders gather round,
Looking rather green;
Auctioneer winks,
Speculators grin,
As he quickly takes
Cash and buyer in!

Steamers leave to-day
For Atlantic States,
Great excitement raised
By reducing rates.
On the opposition,
Nicaragua Transit,
Passengers so crowded

Hardly can a man sit.

Regular mail steamer

Crammed like goose for Christmas,

Bound for Panama,

Aspinwall, and Isthmus;

Friends shed parting tears,

Hack and draymen swear,

Caring more for cab

Than for mortal fare!


City of the West,

Built up in a minute,
In a business bustle,

Everybody in it:
On a race with time,
Fast as he can go,
Everybody thinks
Telegraphing slow!



AMERICA has furnished to the world the character of Washington! And if our American institutions had done nothing else, that alone would have entitled them to the respect of mankind.

Washington-"First in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen !"—Washington is all our own! The enthusiastic veneration and regard in which the people of the Uniteh States hold him, prove them to be worthy of such a countryman; while his reputation abroad reflects the highest honor on his country and its institutions. I would cheerfully put the question to-day to the intelligence of Europe and the world, what character of the century, upon the whole, stands out in the relief of history, most pure, most respectable, most sublime; and. I doubt not, that, by a suffrage approaching to unanimity, the answer would be, Washington!

I claim him for America. In all the perils, in every darkened moment of the state, in the inidst of the reproaches of enemies and the misgiving of friends-I turn to that transcendent name for courage and for consolation. To him who denies, or doubts, whether our fervid liberty can be combined with law, with order, with the security of property, with the pursuit and advancement of happiness-to him who denies that our institutions are capable of producing exaltation of soul, and the passion of true glory— to him who denies that we have contributed any thing to the stock of great lessons and great examples-to all these I reply by pointing to Washington!


SIR, it matters very little what immediate spot may be the birthplace of such a man as Washington. No people can claim, no country can appropriate him: the boon of Providence to the human race, his fame is eternity, and his residence creation. Though it was the defeat of our arms, and the disgrace of our policy, I almost bless the convulsion, in which he had his origin. If the heavens thundered, and the earth rocked, yet, when the storm passed, how pure was the climate that it cleared; how bright, in the brow of the firmament, was the planet which it revealed to us!

In the production of Washington, it does really appear as if Nature was endeavoring to improve upon herself, and that all the virtues of the ancient world were but so many studies preparatory to the patriot of the new. Individual instances, no doubt, there were-splendid exemplifications of some single qualification: Cæsar was merciful; Scipio was continent; Hannibal was patient; but it was reserved for Washington to blend them all in one, and, like the lovely masterpiece of the Grecian artist, to exhibit, in one glow of associated beauty, the pride of every model, and the perfection of every master.

As a general, he marshaled the peasant into a veteran, and supplied by discipline the absence of experience; as a statesman, he enlarged the policy of the cabinet into the most comprehensive system of general advantage; and such was the wisdom of his views, and the philosophy of his counsels, that to the soldier and the statesman, he almost added the character of the sage! A conqueror, he was untainted with the crime of blood; a revolutionist, he was free from any stain of treason; for aggression commenced the contest, and his country called him to the command.

Liberty unsheathed his sword, necessity stained, victory returned it. If he had paused here, history might have doubted what station to assign him: whether at the head of her citizens or her soldiers-her heroes or her patriots. But the last glorious act crowns his career, and banishes all hesitation. Who, like Washington, after having emancipated a hemisphere, resigned its crown, and preferred the retirement of domestic life to the adoration of a land he might be almost said to have created?

« PreviousContinue »