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POETICAL DECLAMATIONS

A FAREWELL TO AMERICA.

R. H. WILDE.

FAREWELL! my more than fatherland!
Home of my heart and friends, adieu !
Lingering beside some foreign strand,
How oft shall I remember you!
How often, o'er the waters blue,
Send back a sigh to those I leave,
The loving and beloved few,
Who grieve for me,

We part!

for whom I grieve!

-no matter how we part;
There are some thoughts we utter not,
Deep treasured in our inmost heart,
Never revealed and ne'er forgot!
Why murmur at the common lot?
We part! I speak not of the pain, -
But when shall I each lovely spot
And each loved face behold again?
It must be months, it may be years,
It
- but no! -I will not fill
may-
Fond hearts with gloom, fond eyes
"Curious to shape uncertain ill."
Though humble, few and far, yet still
Those hearts and eyes are ever dear;

Theirs is the love no time can chill,
The truth no chance or change can sear!
All I have seen, and all I see,

Only endears them more and more;
Friends cool, hopes fade, and hours flee, -
Affection lives when all is o'er!
Farewell, my more than native shore!

I do not seek or hope to find,

Roam where I will, what I deplore
To leave with them and thee behind!

ears,

THE FEATURES.

N. M. MAGAZINE.

THAT mortals are made up of quarrelsome clay,

My tale, I imagine, will prove as it

goes;

First, the Lips took it up, and their reason was this:
That the Nose was a bane both to beauty and love;
And they never, moreover, in comfort could kiss,
For that horrid protuberance jutting above!

Then Eyes, not behind in the matter to be,

With a sparkle began, as I've often times seen 'em, And vowed, "it was perfectly shocking to see

Such a lump of deformity sticking between 'em."
The Cheeks, with a blush, said, "the frightfulest shade,
By the Nose, o'er their bloom and their beauty was thrown;"
And Ears could n't bear the loud trumpeting noise,
Whenever that troublesome member was blown!

So 't was moved, and agreed, without dallying more,
To thrust the intruder, at once, from the face.
But Nose, hearing this, most indignantly swore,

"By the breath of his nostrils, he'd stick to his place!" Then, addressing the Eyes, he went learnedly through His defence, and inquired, "when their vigor was gone, Pray what would their Worship for spectacles do, If the face had no nose, to hang spectacles on?" "Mankind"

served, "loved their scent, as their sight; Or who a farthing for myrtles and roses? And the charge of the Lips was as frivolous quite; For, if Lips fancied kissing, pray, why might n't Noses? As for Ears,"—and, speaking, Nose scornfully curled "Their murmurs were equally trifling and teazing,

And not all the Ears, Eyes, or Lips in the world,

Should keep him unblown, or prevent him from sneezing."

"To the Cheeks," he contended, "he acted as screen,
And guarded them oft from the wind and the weather;

And but that he stood like a landmark between,

The Face had been nothing but cheek altogether!"

With eloquence thus he repelled their abuse,

With logical clearness defining the case;

And from thence came the saying, so frequent in use, That an argument 's plain "as the nose on your face!"

AWAY TO THE WEST.

W. K. COLE.

AWAY to the West, where the primeval wood
Yet throws its dark fringe on the Michigan flood;

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POETICAL DECLAMATIONS

Where, pale in their beauty, the forest flowers bloom,
And the earth is yet mantled in forest-land gloom;
With the bounds of an empire, the dark virgin soil,
Full of treasures, awaiteth the husbandman's toil.

Away to the West, by the Huron's green shore,
Where nature still reigneth supreme as of yore;
Where, murmuring soft in the flickering gleam
Of its leaf-curtained hall, goes the canopied stream;
There stands a broad realm, where the toil of the poor
May keep the grim demon of want from the door.

Away in the West, 'neath the brightest of skies,
And horizon bounded, the prairie land lies
The prairie-land, over whose surface is rolled
A garment much fairer than diamonds and gold;
There the hard hand of labor but waveth its wand,
And a harvest all golden springs up from the land.

Away to the West! ye who grovel and pine
In the haunts of the many, in tunnel and mine;
Banish pick-axe and shovel! then, ho! for the plough;
For a tithe of the labor that dampens yo
Will place you in plenty-a tithe of y

ow

Make you chief of the manor, and lord of the soil.

Ye famishing legions from Europe just fled,
Ye exiles of hunger, ye seekers of bread,
Away with the moment, and linger no more

By the waves that have borne you across to our shore!
For millions and millions as yet there is room,

Where the prairie lands smile and the forest trees bloom.

BRUCE'S ADDRESS.

R. BURNS.

SCOTS, who have with Wallace bled!

Scots, whom Bruce has often led!

Welcome to your gory bed!

Or to glorious victory!

Now's the day, and now 's the hour-
See the front of battle lower !

By oppression's woes and pains,
By your sons in servile chains,
We will drain our dearest veins,

But they shall—they shall be free!

Lay the proud usurpers low!

Tyrants fall in every foe!
Liberty 's in every blow!

Forward! let us do or die!

LA MARSEILLAISE, OR NATIONAL HYMN OF FRANCE.*

C. W. BAIRD.

COME, Sons of France, and on to glory!
The day of vengeance is at hand.
Behold the tyrant's flag, all gory,

And opposing our patriot band!

Hear in the fields their shouts and slaughters!
Destroying each grave and each home,

E'en to your arms they come,

And they butcher your wives and your daughters!

What wills this conjured horde advancing,

Of kings, of traitors, and of slaves?
For whom their chains and daggers glancing?
To prepare our shame or our graves?
Ah! is it thus they scorn our power?

What wrath should their insults excite! 'Tis France they thus would blight, And restore us to slavery's vile hour!

* From the French of Joseph Rougeu De L'Isle.

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POETICAL DECLAMATIONS

What! shall the legions of the stranger
Dictate our laws upon our land?
And shall their hireling troops endanger
The lives of our fiery band?

gory

Great God! shall hands all chained and
Bow our heads in submission and awe?
Shall despots make our law,

And disgrace our country's glory?

For

side!

Tremble, ye tyrants, and each traitor,
The shame and scourge of every
your projects, soon or later,
Their fearful rewards will abide.
All, all will rise, your troops resisting;
If our youth and our children fall,
The earth will, at our call,

Yield us more, our efforts assisting!

But, sons of France! in noble daring,
Learn to retain or strike the blow,
Those unwilling victims sparing,
Discern from the prompting foe.

But each cruel despot smother,
Each complice of bloody Bouillé,
Those tigers that still slay,

And that tear the soft breast of their mother!

Blest tie to France our hearts uniting,
Oh lead and strengthen still our arms!
Loved Liberty, with us now fighting,
Help thy guardians with thy charms!
And let our banner, all victorious,

Advance with thy welcoming words;
Each foe, beneath our swords,

See us triumph, and thee glorious.

To arms, my countrymen! form, form each daring band! March on march on !

Let their blood drench the furrows of our land!