Images de page

A home and a country they'd leave us no more?

Their blood hath washed out their foul footsteps' pollution; No refuge could save the hireling and slave

From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave;
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.


Oh! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand

Between our loved home and the war's desolation;
Blessed with victory and peace, may the heaven-rescued land
Praise the power that hath made and preserved us a nation'
Then conquer we must, for our cause it is just,

And this be our motto, "IN GOD IS OUR TRUST ;"
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.


FRANCIS SCOTT KEY, son of an army officer of the Revolution, was born in Frederick County, Maryland, in 1779. He commenced the practice of law at Fredericktown in 1801, but soon removed to Washington, D. C., where he became District-Attorney for the city. He died January 11th, 1843. A small volume of his poems was published in 1857.




HEN Freedom from her mountain height
Unfurled her standard to the air,

She tōre the ǎzure robe of night,

And set the stars of glory there :
She mingled with its gorgeous dyes
The milky baldric of the skies,
And striped its puro celestial white,
With streakings of the morning light;
Then from his mansion in the sun
She called her eagle-bearer down,
And gave into his mighty hand
The symbol of her chosen land.
2. Majestic monarch of the cloud!

Who rear'st aloft thy regal form,
To hear the tempest-trumpings loud,
And see the lightning lances driven,

When strive the warriors of the storm,

And rolls the thunder drum of heaven—
Child of the sun! to thee 'tis given

To guard the banner of the free,
To hover in the sulphur smoke,
To ward away the battle-stroke,
And bid its blendings shine afar,
Like rainbows on the cloud of war,
The harbingers of victory!

3. Flag of the brave! thy folds shall fly,
The sign of hope and triumph high,
When speaks the signal trumpet tone,
And the long line comes gleaming on.
Ere yet the life-blood, warm and wet,
Has dimmed the glistening bayonet,
Each soldier's eye shall brightly turn
To where thy sky-born glories burn;
And, as his springing steps advance,
Catch war and vengeance from the glance:
And when the cannon-mouthings loud
Heave in wild wreaths the battle-shroud,
And gory sabers rise and fall

Like shoots of flame on midnight's pall;
There shall thy meteor glances glow,
And cowering foes shall sink beneath
Each gallant arm that strikes below
That lovely messenger of death.
4. Flag of the seas! on ocean wave

Thy stars shall glitter o'er the brave;
When Death, careering on the gale,
Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail,
And frighted waves rush wildly back
Before the broadside's reeling rack,
Each dying wanderer of the sea
Shall look at once to heaven and thee,
And smile to see thy splendors fly
In triumph o'er his closing eye.
5. Flag of the free heart's hope and home,
By angel hands to valor given!
Thy stars have lit the welkin dome,

And all thy hues were born in heaven.

Forever float that standard sheet!
Where breathes the foe but falls before us,
With Freedom's soil beneath our feet,

And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us!

DRAKE. JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE, author of "The Culprit Fay," was born in the city of New York, August 7th, 1795. He entered Columbia College at an early period, through which he passed with a reputation for scholarship, taste, and admirable social qualities. He soon after made choice of the medical profession, and completed his professional studies in his native city. Immediately after he was married to Miss Sarah Eckford, a daughter of the noted marine architect, Henry Eckford, through whom he inherited a moderate fortune. His health, about the same time, began to decline; and in the winter of 1819 he visited New Orleans. He had anticipated some benefit from the sea-voyage and the mild climate of Louisiana, but was disappointed, and in the spring of 1820, he returned to New York. His disease-consumption-had now becon.e deeply scated. He lingered through the summer, and died near the close of September, in the twenty-sixth year of his age. He began to write verses when very young, and was a contributor to several gazettes before he was sixteen years old. The secrets of his authorship, however, were only known to his most intimate friends. His longest poem, "The Culprit Fay," was composed in the summer of 1819, though it was not printed until several years after his death. It exhibits the most delicate fancy, and much artistic taste. Drake placed a very modest estimate on his own productions, and it is thought that but a small portion of them has been preserved. A collection of them appeared in 1836. It includes, besides "The Culprit Fay," eighteen short pieces, some of which are very beautiful.




44. WANTS.


VERYBODY, young and old, children and gray-beards, has heard of the renowned Haroun Al Raschid,' the hero of Eastern history and Eastern romance', and the most illustrious of the caliphs of Bagdad, that famous city on which the light of

1 Haroun al Raschid, (hå rồn`-ålråsh' id), a celebrated caliph of the Saracens, ascended the throne in 786, and was a contemporary of Charlemagne. He was brave, munificent, and fond of letters, but cruel and perfidious.


tative of Mohammed; one vested with supreme dignity and power in all matters relating to religion and civil policy. This title is borne by the grand seignior in Turkey, and by the sophi of Persia.


Bagdad, (båg dåd'), a large and Caliph, a successor or represen- celebrated city of Asiatic Turkey,

learning and science shōne, long ere it dawned on the benighted regions of Europe, which has since succeeded to the diädem that once glittered on the brow of Asia. Though as the successor of the Prophet he exercised a despotic sway over the lives and fortunes of his subjects, yet did he not, like the Eastern despots of more modern times, shut himself up within the walls of his palace, hearing nothing but the adulation of his dependents; seeing nothing but the shadows which surrounded him; and knowing nothing but what he received through the medium of in'terested deception or malignant falsehood.

2. That he might see with his own eyes and hear with his own ears, he was accustomed to go about through the streets of Bagdad' by night, in disguise, accompanied by Giafer the Barmecide, his grand vizier,' and Mesrour, his executioner; one to give him his counsel, the other to fulfill his commands promptly, on all occasions. If he saw any commotion among the people, he mixed with them and learned its cause; and if in passing a house he heard the moanings of distress or the complaints of suffering, he entered, for the purpose of administering relief. Thus he made himself acquainted with the condition of his subjects, and often heard those salutary truths which never reached his ears through the walls of his palace, or from the lips of the slaves that surrounded him.

3. On one of these occasions, as Al Raschid was thus perambulating the streets at night, in disguise, accompanied by his vizier and his executioner, in passing a splendid mansion he overheard, through the lattice of a window, the complaints of some one who seemed in the deepèst distress, and silently approaching, looked into an apartment exhibiting all the signs of wealth and luxury. On a sofa of satin embroidered with gold, and sparkling with brilliant gems, he beheld a man richly dressed, in whom he recognized his favorite boon-companion Bedreddin, on whom he had showered wealth and honors with more than Eastern prodigality. He was stretched out on the sofa, slapping his forehead, tearing his beard, and moaning piteously, as if in the extremity of suffering. At length starting up on his feet, he

formerly capital of the empire of the caliphs, now capital of the pashalic of the same name, on both banks of the Tigris, about 190 miles above

its junction with the Euphrates.

Vizier, (viz yer), a councilor of state; a high executive officer in Turkey and other Eastern countries.

exclaimed in tones of despair, "O Allah (God)! I beseech thee to relieve me from my misery, and take away my life!"

4. The Commander of the Faithful, who loved Bedreddin, pitied his sorrows, and being desirous to know their cause, that he might relieve them, knocked at the door, which was opened by a black slave, who, on being informed that they were strangers in want of food and rest, at once admitted them, and informed his master, who called them into his presence and både them welcome. A plentiful feast was spread before them, at which the master of the house sat down with his guests, but of which he did not partake, but looked on, sighing bitterly all the while.

[ocr errors]

5. The Commander of the Faithful at length ventured to ask him what caused his distress, and why he refrained from partaking in the feast with his guests, in proof that they were welcome. "Has Allah afflicted thee with disease, that thou canst not enjoy the blessings he has bestowed? Thou art surrounded by all the splendor that wealth can procure; thy dwelling is a palace, and its apartments are adorned with all the luxuries which captivate the eye, or administer to the gratification of the senses. Why is it, then, O my brother, that thou art miserable?"

6. "True, O stranger," replied Bedreddin. "I have all these ; I have health of body; I am rich enough to purchase all that wealth can bestow, and if I required more wealth and honors, I am the favorite companion of the Commander of the Faithful, on whose head lie the blessings of Allah, and of whom I have ōnly to ask, to obtain all I desire, save one thing only.”

7. "And what is that?" asked the caliph. "Alas! I adore the beautiful Zuleima, whose face is like the full moon, whose eyes are brighter and softer than those of the gazelle, and whose mouth is like the seal of Solomon. But she loves another, and all my wealth and honors are as nothing. The want of one thing renders the possession of every other of no value. I am the most wretched of men; my life is a burden, and my death would be a blessing."

8. "By the beard of the Prophet," cried the caliph, “I swear, thy case is a hard one. But Allah is great and powerful, and will, I trust, either deliver thee from thy burden or give thee strength to bear it." Then thanking Bedreddin for his hospitality, the Commander of the Faithful departed, with his companions.

« PrécédentContinuer »