ough the ranks of war.
With port august let oak-wreath'd Freedom stand
And hail him father of the chosen land;
With laurels deck him, with due honors greet,
And crowns and scepters place beneath his feet;
Let Peace, her olive blooming like the morn,
And kindred Plenty with her teeming horn,
With Commerce, child, and regent of the main,
While Arts and Agriculture join the train,
Rear a sad altar, bend around his urn,
And to their guardian, grateful incense burn!
Let History calm, in thoughtful mood reclin'd,
Record his actions to enrich mankind,
And Poesy divine his deeds rehearse
In all the energy of epic verse!

To future ages there let Mercy own
He never from her bosom forc'd a groan;
Here let a statesman, there a reverend sage
To mark and emulate his steps engage,
Columbia widow'd, count his virtues o'er,
Around his tomb her pearly sorrows pour,
And mild Religion of celestial mien
Point to her patron's place, in realms unseen!
Then stamp in gold the monument above
The mournful tribute of a nation's love!
But not alone in scenes where glory fir'd,
He mov'd, no less, in civic walks admir'd!
Though long a warrior, choice of human blood,
As Brutus noble, and as Titus good!
To all that formed the hero of the age,
He joined the patriot and the peaceful sage,
The statesman powerful and the ruler just,
No less illustrious than the chief august;
And to condense his characters in one,
The god-like Father of his Country shone!

_From an old Magazine_.

* * * * *

Hail, brightest banner that floats on the gale,
Flag of the country of Washington, hail!
Red are thy stripes with the blood of the brave;
Bright are thy stars as the sun on the wave;
Wrapt in thy folds are the hopes of the free.
Banner of Washington!--blessings on thee!

Traitors shall perish and treason shall fail;
Kingdoms and thrones in thy glory grow pale!
Thou shalt live on, and thy people shall own
Loyalty's sweet, when each heart is thy throne;
Union and Freedom thine heritage be.
Country of Washington!--blessings on thee!

WILLIAM S. ROBINSON.

* * * * *

Point of that pyramid whose solid base
Rests firmly founded on a nation's trust,
Which, While the gorgeous palace sinks in dust,
Shall stand sublime, and fill its ample space.

Elected chief of freemen! greater far