And still we trust the years to be

Shall prove his hope was destiny, Leaving our flag, with all its added stars, Unrent by faction and unstained by wars.

Lo! Where with patient toil he nursed And trained the new-set plant at first, The widening branches of a stately tree Stretch from the sunrise to the sunset sea.

And in its broad and sheltering shade,
Sitting with none to make afraid,

Were we now silent, through each mighty limb,
The winds of heaven would sing the praise of him.

Our first and best!-his ashes lie
Beneath his own Virginian sky.

Forgive, forget, O true and just and brave,
The storm that swept above thy sacred grave!

For, ever in the awful strife

And dark hours of the nation's life,

Through the fierce tumult pierced his warning word, Their father's voice his erring children heard!

The change for which he prayed and sought
In that sharp agony was wrought;

No partial interest draws its alien line.

"Twixt North and South, the cypress and the pine!

One people now, all doubt beyond,

His name shall be our Union-bond;

We lift our hands to Heaven, and here and now
Take on our lips the old Centennial vow.

For rule and trust must needs be ours;
Chooser and chosen both are powers
Equal in service as in rights; the claim
Of duty rests on each and all the same.

Then let the sovereign millions, where
Our banner floats in sun and air,
From the warm palm-lands to Alaska's cold,
Repeat with us the pledge a century old!

THE CHAMBERED NAUTILUS

OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES

The nautilus, an inhabitant of tropic seas, has a shell of many chambers, spiral in shape. The animal lives in the outermost chambers, the others being empty. These chambers are connected by a tube, through which they may be filled with air or water, and thus enable the nautilus to rise or sink. The symbolism of this poem is beautiful, and it should be read thoughtfully.

THIS is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign,
Sails the unshadowed main,—

The venturous bark that flings

On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings

In gulfs enchanted, where the Siren sings,
And coral reefs lie bare,

Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair.

Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl;

Wrecked is the ship of pearl!

And every chambered cell,

Where its dim dreaming life was wont to dwell,
As the frail tenant shaped his growing shell,
Before thee lies revealed,-

Its irised ceiling rent, its sunless crypt unsealed!

Year after year beheld the silent toil

That spread his lustrous coil;

Still, as the spiral grew,

He left the last year's dwelling for the new,
Stole with soft step its shining archway through,

Built up its idle door,

Stretched in his last found home, and knew the old no

more.

Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee,
Child of the wandering sea,

Cast from her lap, forlorn!

From thy dead lips a clearer note is born
Than ever Triton blew from wreathéd horn!

While on mine ear it rings,

Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that

sings:

Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul,

As the swift seasons roll!

Leave thy low-vaulted past!

Let each new temple, nobler than the last,
Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast,
Till thou at length art free,

Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea!

THE HEIGHT OF THE RIDICULOUS

OLIVER W. HOLMES

This poem is a good example of the humor of Oliver Wendell Holmes. As one of our American humorists, he takes a high place by reason of his geniality.

I WROTE Some lines once on a time

In wondrous merry mood,

And thought, as usual, men would say
They were exceeding good.

They were so queer, so very queer,
I laughed as I would die;

Albeit, in the general way,
A sober man am I.

I called my servant, and he came;
How kind it was of him

To mind a slender man like me,
He of the mighty limb,

"These to the printer," I exclaimed,
And, in my humorous way,
I added (as a trifling jest,)
"There'll be the devil to pay."

He took the paper, and I watched,
And saw him peep within;
At the first line he read, his face
Was all upon the grin.

He read the next; the grin grew broad,
And shot from ear to ear;

He read the third; a chuckling noise
I now began to hear.

The fourth; he broke into a roar;

The fifth; his waistband split; The sixth; he burst five buttons off,

And tumbled in a fit.

Ten days and nights, with sleepless eye, I watched that wretched man,

And since, I never dare to write

As funny as I can.