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XXVII.-PRENTICE'S BEST POEM.

[The following is the poem read by George D. Prentice of the Louisville Journal at the unvailing of the Clay statue-pronounced the best effort of his life by his admirers: ]

1. HAIL! true and glorious semblance, hail!

Of him, the noblest of our race,
We seem, at lifting of thy vail,

To see again his living face!

To hear the stirring words once more,
That like the storm-god's cadence pealed
With mightier power from shore to shore
Than thunders of the battle-field.

2. Lo! that calm, high, majestic look,
That blinds our gaze as by a spell,
It is the same that erst-while shook
The traitors on whose souls it fell!
Oh that he were again in life!

To wave, as once, his wand of power,
And scatter far the storms of strife

That o'er our country darkly lower.

3. Again, again, and yet again

He rolled back passion's roaring tide,
When the fierce souls of hostile men

Each other's wildest wrath defied:
Alas! alas! dark storms at length

Sweep o'er our half-wrecked ship of state,
And there seem none with will and strength
To save her from her awful fate!

4. But thou, majestic image, thou
Wilt in thy lofty place abide,
And many a manly head will bow

While gazing on a nation's pride;
And while his hallowed ashes lie

Afar beneath old Ashland's sod,
One gaze at thee should sanctify

Our hearts to country and to God.

5. We look on thee, we look on thee,
Proud statue, glorious and sublime,
And years as if by magic flee,

And leave us in his grand old time!

Oh, he was born to bless our race
As ages after ages roll,

We see the image of his face

Earth has no image of his soul!

6. Proud statue! if the nation's life,

For which he toiled through all his years,
Must vanish in our wicked strife

And leave but groans, and blood, and tears;
If all to anarchy be given,

And ruin all our land assail,

He'll turn away his eyes to heaven,

And o'er thee we will cast thy vail.

XXVIII. THE UNSEEN BATTLE-FIELD.

1. THERE is an unseen battle-field
In every human breast,
Where two opposing forces meet,
But where they seldom rest.

2. That field is vailed from mortal sight,
'Tis only seen by One

Who knows alone where victory lies,
When each day's fight is done.

3. One army clusters strong and fierce,
Their chief of demon form;

His brow is like the thunder-cloud,
His voice the bursting storm,

4. His captains, Pride, and Lust, and Hate,
Whose troops watch night and day,
Swift to detect the weakest point,
And thirsting for the fray.

5. Contending with this mighty force
Is but a little band;

Yet there, with an unquailing front,
Those warriors firmly stand!

6. Their leader is a God-like form,
Of countenance serene;
And glowing on his naked breast
A simple cross is seen.

1.

7. His captains, FAITH, and HOPE, and LOVE,
Point to that wondrous sign;
And, gazing on it, all receive
Strength from a Source divine.

8. They feel it speak a glorious truth,
A truth as great as sure,

That to be victors they must learn
To love, confide, endure.

9. That faith sublime in wildest strife
Imparts a holy calm;

For every deadly blow a shield,
For every wound a balm.

10. And when they win that battle-field,
Past toil is quite forgot;

The plain where carnage once had reigned,
Becomes a hallowed spot:

11. A spot where flowers of joy and peace
Spring from the fertile sod,

And breathe the perfume of their praise
On every breeze-to God.

XXIX.-WHAT CONSTITUTES A STATE.

WHAT Constitutes a state?

SIR WILLIAM JONES.

2.

Not high-raised battlements, or labored mound,

Thick wall, or moated gate:

Not cities proud with spires and turrets crowned,
Not bays and broad-armed ports,

Where, laughing at the storm, rich navies ride;
Not starred and spangled courts,

Where low-born baseness wafts perfume to pride.

No; men, high-minded men,

With power as far above dull brutes indued,

In forest, brake, or den,

As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude:

.

Men who their duties know,

But know their rights; and knowing, dare maintain,

Prevent the long-aimed blow,

And crush the tyrant while they rend the chain :
These constitute a state;

3. And sovereign law, that state's collected will,
O'er thrones and globes elate,

Sits empress, crowning good, repressing ill:
Smit by her sacred frown,

The fiend Discretion, like a vapor, sinks,
And e'en the all-dazzling crown

Hides his faint rays, and at her bidding shrinks.

XXX.-POETICAL SELECTIONS.

1.-ELOQUENCE OF SILENCE.

MISS MARY A. WHEATON.

1. Ar midnight's hour, when o'er the sleeping world
The white wings of the angels are unfurled,
And the wild surging tides of life that rushed
So restlessly through human hearts lie hushed;
When all the air is fragrant with the balm
Of blossoms breathing sweet and holy calm,
O'er the tired spirit, then there steal away
Voices to us we never hear by day,
Faint echoes from the world unseen that roll
Through the dim, silent chambers of the soul.

2.-TRUE REFINEMENT.

HOLLAND'S KATHRINA.

1. ONE thing I learned that she who thus had joined

This cluster of disciples was not born

And reared among their number; that was plain.

I saw it in her bearing and her dress;

In that unconsciousness of self that comes

Of gentle breeding, and society

Of gentle men and women; in the ease

With which she bore the awkward deference

Of those that spoke with her adown the aisle ;
In distant and admiring gaze of men,
And the cold scrutiny of village girls
Who passed for belles.

3.-FORGIVE AND FORGET.

CHARLES SWAIN.

1. FORGIVE and forget! why, the world would be lonely,

The garden a wilderness left to deform,

If the flowers but remembered the chilling blast only,
And the fields gave no verdure for fear of the storm.
Oh, still in thy loveliness emblem the flower,

Give the fragrance of feeling to sweeten life's way;
And prolong not again the brief cloud of an hour,
With tears that but darken the rest of the day!
2. Forgive and forget! there's no breast so unfeeling,
But some gentle thoughts of affection there live;
And the best of us all require something concealing,
Some heart that with smiles can forget and forgive.
Then away with the clouds from those beautiful eyes,
That brow was no home for such frowns to have met;
O, how could our spirits e'er hope for the skies,
If Heaven refused-TO FORGIVE AND FORGET?

4. THE FLIGHT OF A SINGLE SOUL.
1. As the light leaf, whose fall to ruin bears
Some trembling insect's little world of cares,
Descends in silence,-while around waves on
The mighty forest, reckless what is gone!
Such is man's doom,-and ere an hour be flown;
Start not, then, trifler !-such may be thine own!

5.-GENIUS UNEMPLOYED.

1. Of all the dull, dead weights man ever bore,
Sure, none can wear the soul with discontent
Like consciousness of power unused. To feel
That one has gift to move the multitude,—
To act upon the life of human kind
By force of will, or fire of eloquence,
Or voice of lofty art, and yet, to feel
No stir of mighty motive in the soul
To action or endeavor; to behold
The fairest prizes of this fleeting life
Borne off by patient men who, day by day,
By bravest toil and struggle, reach the heights
Of great achievement, toiling, struggling thus
With a strong joy, and with a fine contempt
For soft and selfish passion; to see this,
Yet cling to such a passion, like a slave
Who hugs his chains in sluggish impotence,

HOLLAND.

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