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And, phrensied with pain, the swart herdsman
Closed round him his terrible grasp, And jerked him, despite of his struggles,
Down from the mule, in his clasp.
They grappled with desperate madness
On the slippery edge of the wall,
Reeled out to the rush of the fall!
Rang faint through the mist afar, And the riderless mule went homeward
From the fight of the Paso del Mar!
LONG years ago, a little band
Of Pilgrims, from a distant shore, Found a wild home in that cold land
Where the Atlantic's surges roar; They were strong, iron-hearted men,
Oppression's stern, unyielding foes; And in each rugged mountain glen
The village church and school-house rose.
Those Pilgrim sires have passed away,
But still they live in deathless fame;
Are crowned with an immortal name.
A glorious legacy behind,
The freedom of the human mind.
We find a new and pleasant home,
From want, and war, and danger free,
Laved by Pacific's calmer sea.
Were nurseries of New England men;
And may they be our boast and pride
Adorning every golden glen.
Great God I thy kind and bounteous care
Hath cast our lot in goodly lands, With summer skies and valleys fair,
And rivers paved with golden sands. God of our Fathers! crown and bless
This gold land of Pacific's shore, With plenty, peace, and happiness,
And liberty, forevermore.
BABIE BELL.-T. B. ALDRICH.
Have you not heard the poet tell,
Into this world of ours ?
With folded hands and dreamy eyes
She wandered out of Paradise!
Into this world of ours !
It came upon us by degrees;
OUR COUNTRY'S ORIGIN,
We shuddered with unlanguaged pain,
And all our thoughts ran into tears!
And all our hopes were changed to fears-
Aloud we cried in our belief:
“Oh smite us gently, gently, God!
And perfect grow through grief I"
At last he came, the messenger,
The messenger froin unseen lands:
Out of this world of ours!
OUR COUNTRY'S ORIGIN.-DANIEL WEBSTER.
Our fathers came hither to a land from which they were never to return. Hither they had brought, and here they were to fix their hopes, their attachments, and their objects. Some natural tears they shed, as they left the pleasant abodes of their fathers, and some emotions they suppressed when the white cliffs of their native country, now seen for the last time, grew dim to their sight.
A new existence awaited them here; and when they saw these shores, rough, cold, barbarous, and barren, as then they were, they beheld their country. Before they reached the shore, they had established the elements of a social system, and at a much earlier period had settled their forms of religious worship. At
the moment of their landing, therefore, they possessed institutions of government, and institutions of religion. The morning that beamed on the first night of their repose saw the Pilgrims already established in their country. There were political institutions, and civil liberty, and religious worship. Poetry has fancied nothing in the wanderings of heroes so distinct and characteristic. Here was man indeed unprotected, and unprovided for, on the shore of a rude and fearful wilderness; but it was politic, intelligent, and educated man. Every thing was civilized but the physical world. Institutions containing in substance all that ages had done for human government were established in a forest. Cultivated mind was to act on uncultivated nature; and, more than all, a government and a country were to commence with the very first foundations laid under the divine light of the Christian religion. Happy auspices of a happy futurity! Who would wish that his country's existence had otherwise begun? Who would desire the power of going back to the ages of fable? Who would wish for an origin obscured in the darkness of antiquity? Who would wish for other emblazoning of his country's heraldry, or other ornaments of her genealogy, than to be able to say that her first existence was with intelligence; her first breath the inspirations of liberty; her first principle the truth of divine religion ?
I HAVE great faith in hard work. The material world does much for the mind by its beauty and order; but it does more for our minds by the pains it inflicts, by its obstinate resistance which nothing but patient toil can overcome, by its vast forces which nothing but unremitting skill and effort can turn to our use, by its perils which demand continual vigilance, and by its tendencies to decay. I believe that difficulties are more important to the human mind than what we call assistances. Work we all must, if we mean to bring out and perfect our nature. Even if we do not work with the hands, we must undergo equivalent toil in
some other direction. No business or study which does not present obstables, tasking to the full the intellect and the will, is worthy of a man. In science, he who does not grapple with hard questions, who does not concentrate his whole intellect in vigorous attention, who does not aim to penetrate what at first repels him, will never attain to mental force. The uses of toil reach beyond the present world. The capacity of steady, earnest labor is, I apprehend, one of our great preparations for another state of being. When I see the vast amount of toil required of men, I feel that it must have important connections with their future existence; and that he who has met this discipline manfully, has laid one essential foundation of improvement, exertion, and happiness in the world to come. You will here see that labor has great dignity. It is not merely the grand instrument, by which the earth is overspread with fruitfulness and beauty, and the ocean subdued, and matter wrought into innumerable forms for comfort and ornament. It has a far higher function, which, is to give force to the will, efficiency, courage, the capacity of endurance and of persevering devotion to far-reaching plans. Alas, for the man who has not learned to work! He is a poor creature. He does not know himself. He depends on others, with no capacity of making returns for the support they give; and let him not fancy that he has a monopoly of enjoyment. Ease, rest, owes its deliciousness to toil; and no toil is so burdensome as the rest of him who has nothing to task and quicken his powers.
LABOR is heaven's great ordinance for human improvement. Let not the great ordinance be broken down. What do I say? It is broken down; and it has been broken down for ages. Let it, then, be built again; here, if anywhere, on the shores of a new world-of a new civilization.
But how, it may be asked, is it broken down? Do not men toil ? it may be said. They do, indeed, toil; but they too gene