God shall spread abroad His banner,-
Sign of universal peace;

And the earth shall shout Hosanna,

And the reign of blood shall cease.
Man no more shall seek dominion

Through a sea of human gore;
War shall spread its gloomy pinion
O'er the peaceful earth no more.

WILLIAM HENRY BURLEIGH.

11. TRUE GLORY.

THEY err, who count it glorious to subdue
By conquest far and wide, to overrun

Large countries, and in field great battles win,
Great cities by assault.

What do these worthies

But rob and spoil, burn, slaughter, and enslave
Peaceable nations, neighboring or remote?
Made captive, yet deserving freedom more
Than those, their conquerors, who leave behind
Nothing but ruin, wheresoe'er they rove,
And all the flourishing works of peace destroy:
Then swell with pride, and must be titled gods,
Great benefactors of mankind, deliverers,
Worshipped with temple, priest, and sacrifice.
But if there be in glory aught of good,
It may by means far different be attained,
Without ambition, war, or violence:
By deeds of peace, by wisdom eminent,
By patience, temperance.

Who names not now with honor, patient Job?
Poor Socrates (who next, more honorable?)
By what he taught, and suffered for so doing,
For truth's sake suffering death unjust, lives now
Equal in fame to proudest conquerors.

JOHN MILTON (In "Paradise Regained").

12. THE WARRIOR'S WREATH.

BEHOLD the wreath which decks the warrior's brow:
Breathes it a balmy fragrance sweet? Ah, no!
It rankly savors of the grave!

'Tis red, but not with roseate hues;

'Tis crimsoned o'er

With human gore!

'Tis wet, but not with heavenly dews.

"T is drenched in tears, by widows, orphans, shed: Methinks in sable weeds I see them clad,

And mourn in vain for husbands slain, Children beloved, or brothers dear;

The fatherless

In deep distress,

Despairing, shed the scalding tear.

I hear, 'mid dying groans, the cannon's crash;

I

see, 'mid smoke, the musket's horrid flash;

Here famine walks, there carnage stalks,

Hell in her fiery eye; she stains

With purple blood

The crystal flood,

Heaven's altars, and the verdant plains.

Scenes of domestic peace and social bliss
Are changed to scenes of woe and wretchedness;
The votaries of vice increase,

Towns sacked, whole cities wrapt in flame!
Just Heaven, say,

Is this the "bay "

Which warriors gain? Is this called Fame?

From "National Preceptor." Anon. 1835.

13. MIGHT MAKES RIGHT.

A SPARROW, perched upon a bough,

Spied a poor beetle creep below,

And picked it up.

"Ah, spare me, spare!"

The insect prayed: but vain its

prayer.

"Wretch!" cries the murderer, "hold thy tongue,

For thou art weak, and I am strong."

A hawk beheld him, and in haste

Sharpens his beak for a repast,

And pounces plump upon him. "Oh,"

Exclaims the sparrow, "let me go!"

"Wretch!" cries the murderer, "hold thy tongue, For thou art weak, and I am strong."

The hawk was munching up his prey,
When a stout eagle steered that way,
And seized upon him.

You'll spare my life,

"Sure, comrade,

we 're both a trade!"

"Wretch!" cries the murderer, "hold thy tongue, For thou art weak, and I am strong."

A sportsman saw the eagle fly:

He shot, and brought him from the sky.

The dying bird could only groan,

"Tyrant, what evil have I done?"

"Wretch!" cries the murderer, "hold thy tongue,

For thou art weak, and I am strong."

'Tis thus that man to man behaves:
Witness the planter and his slaves.
'Tis thus that State oppresses State,
And infant freedom meets its fate.

"Wretch!" cries the stronger, "hold thy tongue,

For thou art weak, and I am strong."

From "National Preceptor." Anon. 1835

14. THE REIGN OF PEACE.

BEAUTIFUL Vision! how bright it rose,
Vision of peaceful and calm repose !

Well might it brighten the rapt seer's eye,
And waken his heart to an ecstasy !.

'T was earth, glad earth, when her strife was o'er,
Her conflict ended, and war no more.

Households are grouped in the fig-tree's shade,
None to molest them or make afraid;
Securely rest 'neath the house-side vine,
Parent and child from the noon sunshine;
Nations rejoice in the blest release,
And the voice of Earth is a voice of peace.

Beautiful vision and shall it be
Surely accomplished, O Earth, in thee?
The sword of war, shall it scathe no more
The peaceful scenes of the softest shore?
And light stream down from the radiant skies
On scenes of the war-god's sacrifice?

Ay ! for the word of the prophet is true.
Fair was the vision; but full in view,
The Moslem's sabre, all keen and bright,
Burnished and bare for the ready fight;
Sheathe it he will, and in spirit be
Like the turtle-dove in his cypress-tree.

The vines of Judah shall then be pruned,
Her broken harp be again attuned ;
And listening Earth, from her farthest shore,
Startled not now by the cannon's roar,
Songs of the angels shall hear again :
"Peace on earth, and good will to men!"

ELIZA THORNTON

15. BANNOCKBURN.

WHEN Burns agreed with George Thompson to write words for his volume of Scottish Airs, he adapted Bannockburn to the air, "Hey tuttie, taitie," said to have been played by the bag-pipers at Bannockburn. Before publication, Thompson, thinking the air too frivolous, urged the addition of two syllables, naming them, to suit the air, "Jamie Gordon." The words in italics are the added words. The third verse originally closed, “Let him turn and flee," and the fourth verse closed, "Let him follow me." The original inspiration has ever been the favorite version. Sir Walter Scott afterwards wrote the introductory stanzas. — ED.

AT Bannockburn the English lay;
The Scots, they were na far away,
But waited for the break of day
That glinted in the east.

But soon the sun broke through the heath,

And lighted up that field of death;

When Bruce, wi' soul-inspiring breath,

His heralds thus addressed:

"Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled,
Scots wham Bruce has aften led,
Welcome to your gory bed,

Or to glorious victory!

Now's the day, and now 's the hour;
See the front of battle low'r;

See approach proud Edward's power,—
Edward, chains and slavery!

"Wha will be a traitor knave?
Wha can fill a coward's grave?
Wha sae base as be a slave?

Traitor! coward! turn and flee!

"Wha for Scotland's king and law
Freedom's sword will strongly draw,
Freeman stand, or freeman fa'?
Caledonian, on wi' me!