SUNRISE ON THE HILLS. And rocking on the cliff was left The dark pine blasted, bare, and cleft. I heard the distant waters dash- Then o'er the vale with gentle swell The music of the village bell Came sweetly to the echo-giving hills, 135 And the wild horn, whose voice the woodland fills Was ringing to the merry shout That faint and far the glen sent out, Where, answering to the sudden shot, thin smoke Through thick-leaved branches from the dingle broke. If thou art worn and hard beset With sorrows that thou wouldst forget,— If thou wouldst read a lesson that will keep Thy heart from fainting and thy soul from sleep, Go to the woods and hills!-no tears Dim the sweet look that nature wears. 136 AMERICA TO GREAT BRITAIN AMERICA TO GREAT BRITAIN. BY WASHINGTON ALLSTON. ALL hail! thou noble land, Our fathers' native soil! O'er the vast Atlantic wave to our shore: The world o'er! The Genius of our clime, From his pine-embattled steep, Shall hail the great sublime; While the Tritons of the deep With their conchs the kindred league shall proclaim, O'er the main our naval line, Though ages long have passed Since our fathers left their home, Their pilot in the blast, O'er untravelled seas to roam, Yet lives the blood of England in our veins! AMERICA TO GREAT BRITAIN. 137 That blood of honest fame, Which no tyranny can tame While the language, free and bold, How the vault of heaven rung, Ten thousand echoes greet, From rock to rock repeat Round our coast; While the manners, while the arts, That mould a nation's soul, Still cling around our hearts, Our joint communion breaking with the Sun Yet, still, from either beach, The voice of blood shall reach, More audible than speech, "We are One!' *12* 138 LOVE UNCHANGEABLE. LOVE UNCHANGEABLE. BY R. DAWES. YES! still I love thee-Time who sets And dims my sunken eye, forgets The dew-drop hanging o'er the rose, Can never touch a leaf that blows, Though seeming, to the sight; I would not have thy married heart Nor would I tear the cords apart, That bind me so to thee; No! while my thoughts seem pure and mild Like dew upon the roses wild, THE STAR AND THE LILY. 139 I would not have thee know, The stream that seems to thee so stin, Has such a tide below! Enough! that in delicious dreams Enough, that when the morning beams, Yet, could I hope, when Time shall fall To meet thee-and to love,— I would not shrink from aught below, THE STAR AND THE LILY.. THE sun stepped down from his golden throne, And lay in the silent sea, And the Lily had folded her satin leaves, For a sleepy thing was she; What was the Lily dreaming about? O what is that to you? And why did she open her drooping lids The Rose is cooling his burning cheek, |