'Twas thus as we swung in our hammocks one night,
TOM JUNK to his messmates so gallantly spake;
We heard him with joy, and our bosoms beat light,
In the hope that we stood in the enemy's wake.
Next day was the battle-our foes they were bold,

But American sailors to conquer were sworn;
And though fiercely the tide of the conflict was roll'd,
The wreathe from the brow of Brittania was torn.

In the midst of the fight, when the scuppers ran blood,
Bold Toм, like a lion, the contest maintained;
At his gun, undismay'd and collected, he stood,

While the bullets on deck, like a wild tempest rain'd. He stood at his gun, with a soul so serene

That he jested and laugh'd to his messmates around; But the moment that victory lighted the scene, He fell, like the oak, in full majesty crown'd.

He fell but the soul of the sailor was strong:
His eyes to the flag of Columbia rose,
And he smil'd to his friends, as it floated along

From the top of the conquer'd, but proudest of foes.
He smil'd, but the cheek of the hero grew pale-
Huzza! and his eyes were no longer so bright;
His soul on the pinions of glory set sail,

And Victory bore him aloft in our sight.

On viewing the Naval Procession at Newyork, September 15, 1813.
WHERE slowly moves the warrior's laurel'd bier
In all the pomp of wo-its sad array;

Why Nature there refuse the tribute tear,
Which still to Worth, to Genius she will pay?

Why Sympathy did'st sleep within thy coral cell,
As passed Columbia's fallen hero by:

And no fond looks his deeds of valour tell,

Nor chrystal tear-drop fill the trembling eye!

Such were not Nature in that lofty hour,
When patriots feel the hero gone from earth;
The soul enchanted by a bolder power,

Gives to each passion yet a nobler birth.

A sacred fire burns in every vein,

O'er every limb-through every nerve it steals; Thrills through the heart with unresisted reign, Refines the spirit that sublimely feels!

Upward is raised the soul expressing eye,
Flash'd with its generous, its exulting fire;
Follows the hero to his kindred sky,

And hears the requiem of celestial choir!

The solemn scene less eloquent of woes,

Tells of heroic worth, of deeds in arms;
A kindling joy through every life pulse glowS
Passion is clad in more than mortal charms.

And as he pauses 'bove the array of earth,
The soul is busied in its proud employ;
'Tis there it feels-it owns immortal birth-
The hallowed scene is redolent of joy!

But onward-follow to the silent grave,

Where the cold clods with solemn music blend;

Oh! Nature there her tender tribute gave,
And wept the Christian-father, and the friend.

The sterner warrior melts with willing wo,
Nor shames to feel the kindred pulse f earth;
A small fond relic that we still may know,
How the celestial was of mortal birth.

Each loftier passion left its wonted throne,
And from the trembling soul a moment fled;

Dear Sensibility then claims her own

He who in victory Pity captive lead!

The pans swell with solemn musings fraught,

Nor raised the heart, nor tranquilliz'd the soul-
Back to the world that fleeting form it brought;
Of him endeared by Virtue's soft control.

Columbia long for such a son shall mourn,

The stranger oft shall pause upon his grave; And many a hand shall decorate his

urn,

And love to stay where sleeps the fallen brave.、

The patriot here his votive wreathe shall twine,
Long shall he glory in the warrior's name—

The name of LAWRENCE purity enshrine,
Who fought for freedom, hallowed is by fame!

LORENZO.

NAVAL SONG.

HAIL to the heroes from Ocean returning,
Welcome their off'ring at Liberty's shrine;
Proud gallant warriors, with ardour still burning,
For Columbia to conquer 'tis her they entwine.
Their own native vales for danger forsaking,
Still for Columbia bright laurels to gain;
Guardians of freedom, to glory yet waking,
Dauntless in deeds-ye are guarded by Fame!
List to the pæan now loudly it swells,
Dear is the land where Liberty dwells!

Yet are the laurels of victory blooming,
Columbia thy arm is destin'd to save-
Bright in thy glory, thy star is illuming,

Shores where thy glory is borne on each wave!
Hail to the heroes, thy rights still maintaining
Against haughty Albion, so proud on the sea;
(Already the star of her glory is waning)
Columbia they live, and they conquer for thee!
List to the pæan, now loudly it swells,
Dear is the land where Liberty dwells!

AUSTIN.

MEMOIRS OF WILLIAM PENN.

We copy the following detached passages from "Clarkson's Memoirs of the Life of William Penn," a work recently published in England, and reprinted in this city. They are selected as peculiarly calculated to interest the inhabitants of Pennsylvania, who will be gratified by anecdotes of the distinguished founder, and a representation of the early state of the province.

Ir may be proper to give here an anecdote of the modesty of William Penn, as it relates to the charter. On the day when it was signed he wrote to several of his friends to inform them of it, and among others to R. Turner, one of the persons mentioned to have been admitted as a partner in the purchase of East Newjersey. He says in this letter, that after many waitings, watchings, solicitings, and disputes in council, his country was on that day confirmed to him under the great seal of England, with large powers and privileges, by the name of Pennsylvania, a name which the king gave it in honour of his father. It was his own intention to have had it called New Wales; but the under secretary, who was a Welshman, opposed it. He then suggested Sylvania, on account of its woods, but they would still add Penn to it. He offered the under secretary twenty guineas to give up his prejudices, and to consent to change the name; for he feared lest it should be looked upon as vanity in him, and not as a respect in the king, as it truly was, to his father, whom he often mentioned with great praise. Finding that all would not do, he went to the king himself to get the name of Penn struck out, or another substituted; but the king said it was passed, and that he would take the naming of it upon himself.

His next movement was to Upland, in order to call the first general assembly. This was a memorable event, and to be distinguished by some marked circumstance. He determined therefore to change the name of the place. Turning round to his friend Pearson, one of his own society, who had accompanied him in the ship Welcome, he said, " Providence has brought us here safe. Thou hast been the companion of my perils. What wilt thou that I should call this place?" Pearson said, "Chester, in remembrance of the city from whence he came." William Penn replied, that it should be called Chester; and that, when he divided the

land into counties, he would call one of them by the same name also.

The time now arrived when he was to confirm his great treaty with the Indians. His religious principles, which led him to the practice of the most scrupulous morality, did not permit him to look upon the king's patent or legal possession according to the laws of England, as sufficient to establish his right to the country, without purchasing it by fair and open bargain of the natives, to whom only it properly belonged. He had instructed commissioners, who had arrived in America before him, to buy it of the latter, and to make with them at the same time a treaty of eternal friendship. This the commissioners had done; and this was the time when, by mutual agreement between him and the Indian chiefs, it was to be publicly ratified. He proceeded, therefore, accompanied by his friends, consisting of men, women, and young persons of both sexes, to Coaquannoc, the Indian name for the place where Philadelphia now stands. On his arrival there he found the sachems and their tribes assembling. They were seen in the woods as far as the eye could carry, and looked frightful both on account of their number and their arms. The quakers are reported to have been but a handful in comparison, and these without any weapon -so that dismay and terror had come upon them, had they not confided in the righteousness of their cause.

It is much to be regretted, when we have accounts of minor treaties between William Penn and the Indians, that in no historian I can find an account of this, though so many mention it, and though all concur in considering it as the most glorious of any in the annals of the world. There are, however, relations in Indian speeches, and traditions in quaker families descended from those who were present on the occasion, from which we may learn something concerning it. It appears that, though the parties were to assemble at Coaquannoc, the treaty was made a little higher up, at Shackamaxon. Upon this Kensington now stands, the houses of which may be considered as the suburbs of Philadelphia. There was at Shackamaxon an elm tree of a prodigious size. To this the leaders on both sides repaired, approaching each other under its widely-spreading branches. William Penn appeared in his