ed a crown by thy desert
More than by birth thy own,
Careless of watch and ward; thou art begirt
By grateful hearts alone.
The moated wall and battle-ship may fail,
But safe shall justice prove;
Stronger than greaves of brass or iron mail
The panoply of love.

Crowned doubly by man's blessing and God's grace,
Thy future is secure;
Who frees a people makes his statue's place
In Time's Valhalla sure.
Lo! from his Neva's banks the Scythian Czar
Stretches to thee his hand
Who, with the pencil of the Northern star,
Wrote freedom on his land.
And he whose grave is holy by our calm
And prairied Sangamon,
From his gaunt hand shall drop the martyr's palm
To greet thee with "Well done!"

And thou, O Earth, with smiles thy face make sweet,
And let thy wail be stilled,
To hear the Muse of prophecy repeat
Her promise half fulfilled.
The Voice that spake at Nazareth speaks still,
No sound thereof hath died;
Alike thy hope and Heaven's eternal will
Shall yet be satisfied.
The years are slow, the vision tarrieth long,
And far the end may be;
But, one by one, the fiends of ancient wrong
Go out and leave thee free.

MY VISIT TO SYBARIS.

It is a great while since I first took an interest in Sybaris. Sybarites
have a bad name. But before I had heard of them anywhere else, I had
painfully looked out the words in the three or four precious anecdotes
about Sybaris in the old Greek Reader; and I had made up my boy's mind
about the Sybarites. When I came to know the name they had got
elsewhere, I could not but say that the world had been very unjust to
them!

O dear! I can see it now,--the old Latin school-room, where we used to
sit, and hammer over that Greek, after the small boys had gone. They
went at eleven; we--because we were twelve years old--stayed till
twelve. From eleven to twelve we sat, with only those small boys who had
been "kept" for their sins, and Mr. Dillaway. The room was long and
narrow; how long and how narrow, you may see, if you will go and examine
M. Duchesne's model of "Boston as it was," and pay twenty-five cents to
the Richmond schools. For all this is of the past; and in the same spot
in space where once a month the Examiner Club now meets at Parker's, and
discusses the difference between religion and superstition, the folly of
copyright