LVIII.-SONG OF THE UNION.

CUMMINGS.

[The Rev. Dr. Cummings, a Catholic clergyman, was pastor of St. Stephen's Church. New York. He died January 4, 1866.]

1. ERE Peace and Freedom, hand in hand,
Went forth to bless this happy land,
And make it their abode,

It was the footstool of a throne;
But now no master here is known,
No king is feared but God.

2. Americans uprose in might,

And triumphed in th' unequal fight,
For union made them strong;

Union! the magic battle-cry

That hurled the tyrant from on high,
And crushed his hireling throng!

3. That word since then hath shone on high,
In starry letters, to the sky.

It is our country's name!

What impious hand shall rashly dare
Down from its lofty peak to tear
The banner of her fame?

4. The spirits of th' heroic dead,

Who for Columbia fought and bled,
Would curse the dastard son

Who should betray their noble trust,
And madly trample in the dust

The charter1 which they won.

5. From vast Niagara's gurgling roar
To Sacramento's golden shore,

From east to western wave,

The blended vows of millions rise,
Their voice reëchoes to the skies

'The Union we must save!"

6. The God of nations, in whose name
The sacred laws obedience claim,

Will bless our fond endeavor

To dwell as brethren here below;

The Union, then, come weal,2 come woe,

We will preserve forever!

1 CHARTER. A written instrument be- | 2 WEAL. Happiness; prosperity. stowing rights or privileges.

LIX. THE RAINBOW.

[Mrs. Amelia B. Welby was born in Maryland, in 1821, and was the wife of Mr. George Welby, of Louisville, Kentucky. She is the author of a volume of short poems much admired for their beauty of thought and expression.]

1. I SOMETIMES have thoughts, in my loneliest hours, That lie on my heart like the dew on the flowers, Of a ramble I took one bright afternoon,

When my heart was as light as a blossom in June: The green earth was moist with the late-fallen

showers,

The breeze fluttered down and blew open the flowers,

While a single white cloud to its haven1 of rest,

On the white wing of Peace, floated off in the

west.

2. As I threw back my tresses to catch the cool

breeze,

That scattered the rain-drops and dimpled the

seas,

Far up the blue sky a fair rainbow unrolled

Its soft-tinted pinions of purple and gold.
'Twas born in a moment, yet quick as its birth

It had stretched to the uttermost ends of the earth,

And, fair as an angel, it floated as free,

With a wing on the earth and a wing on the sea.

3. How calm was the ocean! how gentle its swell! With what beautiful movement it rose and it

fell!

While its light-sparkling waves, stealing laughingly

o'er,

When they saw the fair rainbow, knelt down on the

shore.

No sweet hymn ascended, no murmur of prayer;
Yet I felt that the spirit of worship was there,
And bent my young head, in devotion and love,
'Neath the form of the angel that floated above.

4. How wide was the sweep of its beautiful wings!
How boundless its circle, how radiant its rings !
If I looked on the sky, 'twas suspended 2 in air;
If I looked on the ocean, the rainbow was there;
Thus forming a girdle as brilliant and whole

As the thoughts of the rainbow that circled my soul.

Like the wing of the Deity, calmly unfurled,

It bent from the cloud, and encircled the world.

5. There are moments, I think, when the spirit re

ceives

Whole volumes of thought on its unwritten leaves,

When the folds of the heart in a moment unclose,

Like the innermost leaves from the heart of a

rose.

And thus, when the rainbow had passed from the

sky,

The thoughts it awoke were too deep to pass by;

It left my full soul, like the wing of a dove,

All fluttering with pleasure and fluttering with love.

6. I know that each moment of rapture or pain

But shortens the links in life's mystical chain;

I know that my form, like that bow from the

wave,

Must pass from the earth, and lie cold in the

grave;

Yet, O, when Death's shadows my bosom encloud, When I shrink at the thought of the coffin and

shroud,

May Hope, like the rainbow, my spirit enfold
In her beautiful pinions of purple and gold!

HA'VEN. A port; a place of safety. | 2 SUS-PEND'ED. Hung.

LX.-A SWINDLER EXPOSED.

[The following dialogue is taken from "Still Waters run Deep," an English comedy written by Tom Taylor, and played for the first time in London, in 1855. The scene is laid in London and its neighborhood. Mildmay is a retired merchant, concealing under a quiet manner a great amount of energy and courage. Hawksley is a swindler and adventurer, who had persuaded Potter, Mildmay's father-in-law, to take shares in a worthless company. He has also in his possession some letters written to him, many years before, by Mrs. Sternhold, aunt of Mildmay's wife, which, if published, would injure her. Mildmay had learned this last fact by overhearing a conversation between Mrs. Sternhold and Hawksley.]

Hawksley. A thousand pardons, my dear fellow; one gets so absorbed in these figures! Take a chair. You'll allow me to finish what I was about.

Mildmay. Don't mind me. I'm in no hurry.

Hawk. By the way, if you'll look on that table, you'll find a plan of our Inexplosive Galvanic Boat somewhere. Just glance your eye over it, while I knock off this calculation; it will give you an idea of the machinery. (After a minute or two of pretended work, putting away his papers, and rising.) And now, my dear Mildmay, I am at your service. But before we come to business, how are all at Brompton? The ladies all well?

Mild. Mrs. Sternhold's a little out of sorts this morning.

Hawk. Ah! Had a bad night?

Mild. I should think so.

Hawk. Well, I had a note from Potter. He tells me you had some thoughts of taking shares in our Galvanics. I've mislaid his note; but he mentioned your wanting something like two hundred shares – wasn't it?

Mild. I beg your pardon; not exactly, I think