Few and short were the prayers we said,
And we spoke not a word of sorrow;

But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow

4.

We thought, as we hollow'd his narrow bel,

And smooth'd down his lonely pillow,

That the foe and the stranger would tread 'er his head,

And we far away on the billow!

Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone,
And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him,-
But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on
In the grave where a Briton has laid him.

5.

But half of our heavy task was done,

When the clock struck the hour of retiring; And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing.

Slowly and sadly we laid him down,

From the field of his fame fresh and gory; We carved not a line, we raised not a stone But we left him alone with his glory!

THE HOMES OF ENGLAND.-Hemans.

The stately homes of England,
How beautiful they stand!
Amid their tall ancestral trees,

O'er all the pleasant land!

The deer across their greensward bound
Through shade and sunny gleam,

And the swan glides past them with the sound
Of some rejoicing stream.

2.

The merry homes of England!

Around their hearths by night,

What gladsome looks of household love

Meet in the ruddy light!

There woman's voice flows forth in song
Or childhood's tale is told;

Or lips move tunefully along
Some glorious page of old.

3.

The blessed homes of England!

How softly on their bowers

Is laid the holy quietness

That breathes from Sabbath hours! Solemn, yet sweet, the church bell's chime Floats through their woods at morn,

All other sounds in that still time

Of breeze and leaf are borne.

4.

The cottage homes of England!
By thousands on her plains,
They're smiling o'er the silvery brook,
And round the hamlet fanes.
Through glowing orchards forth they peep,
Each from its nook of leaves;

And fearless there the lowly sleep,

As the bird beneath their eaves.

5.

e free fair homes of England!
ong, long in hut and hall

hearts of native proof be rear'd,
guard each hallow'd wall.

een forever be the groves,

a bright their flowery sod,

here first the child's glad spirit loves
Its country and its God.

ADDRESS OF DANIEL WEBSTER TO THE SURVIVORS OF THE

BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL, DELIVERED AT THE LAYING OF THE CORNER-STONE OF THE BUNKER HILL MONU, MENT.

Venerable men! you have come down to us from a former generation. Heaven has bounteously lengthened ɔut your lives, that you might behold this joyous day. You are now where you stood fifty years ago, this very hour, with your brothers, and your neighbors, shoulder to shoulder, in the strife for your country. Behold, how altered! The same heavens are indeed over your heads; the same ocean rolls at your feet; but all else, how changed! You hear now no roar of hostile cannon, you see no mixed volumes of smoke and flame rising from burning Charlestown. The ground strewed with tho dead and the dying; the impetuous charge; the steady and successful repulse; the loud call to repeated assault; the summoning of all that is manly to repeated resistance; a thousand bosoms freely and fearlessly bared in an instant to whatever of terror there may be in war and death;-all these you have witnessed, but you witness

them no more. All is peace. The heights of yonder metropolis, its towers and roofs, which you then saw filled with wives, and children, and countrymen, in distress and terror, and looking with unutterable emotions for the issue of the combat, have presented you to-day with the sight of its whole happy population, come out to welcome and greet you with an universal jubilee. Yonder proud ships, by a felicity of position, appropriately lying at the foot of this mount, and seeming fondly to cling around it, are not means of annoyance to you, but your country's own means of distinction and defence. All is peace; and God has granted you this sight of your country's happiness, ere you slumber in the grave forever. He has allowed you to behold and to partake the reward of your patriotic toils; and he has allowed us, your sons and countrymen, to meet you here, and in the name of the present generation, in the name of your country, in the name of liberty, to thank you!

2. But, alas! you are not all here! Time and the sword have thinned your ranks. Prescot, Putnam, Stark, Brooks, Read, Pomeroy, Bridge! our eyes seek for you in vain amid this broken band. You are gathered to your fathers, and live only to your country, in her grateful remembrance, and your own bright example. But let us not too much grieve, that you have met the common fate of men. You lived, at least, long enough to know that your work had been nobly and successfully accomplished. You lived to see your country's inde pendence established, and to sheathe your swords from

war.

On the light of liberty you saw arise the light of

peace, like

'another morn,

Risen on midnoon;'

and the sky, on which you closed your eyes, was cloud less.

3. Bat--ah!-him! the first great martyr in this great cause! Him! the premature victim of his own self-devoting heart! Him! the head of our civil councils, and the destined leader of our military bands; whom nothing brought hither but the unquenchable fire of his own spirit! Him! cut off by Providence, in the hour of overwhelming anxiety, and thick gloom; falling, ere he saw the star of his country rise; pouring out his generous blood, like water, before he knew whether it would fertilize a land of freedom or of bondage! how shall I struggle with the emotions that stifle the utterance of thy name! Our poor work may perish, but thine shall endure! This monument may moulder away, the solid ground it rests upon may sink down to a level with the sea; but thy memory shall not fail! Wheresoever among men a heart shall be found that beats to the transports of patriotism and liberty, its aspirations shall be to claim kindred with thy spirit.

4. But the scene amid which we stand does not permit us to confine our thoughts or our sympathies to those fearless spirits who hazarded or lost their lives cn this consecrated spot. We have the happiness to rejoice here in the presence of a most worthy representation of the survivors of the whole revolutionary army.

5. Veterans! you are the remnant of many a well-fought field. You bring with you marks of honor from Trenton and Monmouth, from Yorktown, Camden, Benning.