Our rainbow arch thy mercy's sign; All, save the clouds of sin, are thine!

Lord of all life, below, above,

Whose light is truth, whose warmth is love,

Before thy ever-blazing throne

We ask no lustre of our own.

Grant us thy truth to make us free,

And kindling hearts that burn for thee,
Till all thy living altars claim
One holy light, one heavenly flame !

1859.

PROLOGUE TO 'SONGS IN MANY KEYS'

THE piping of our slender, peaceful reeds Whispers uncared for while the trumpets bray;

She has torn her own star from our firmament's glow,

deeds, Following the mighty van that Freedom leads,

Her glorious standard flaming to the day! The crimsoned pavement where a hero bleeds

Breathes nobler lessons than the poet's lay. Strong arms, broad breasts, brave hearts, are better worth

Than strains that sing the ravished echoes dumb.

Hark! 't is the loud reverberating drum Rolls o'er the prairied West, the rock-bound North:

The myriad-handed Future stretches forth Its shadowy palms. Behold, we come, we come!

Turn o'er these idle leaves. Such toys as these

Were not unsought for, as, in languid dreams,

We lay beside our lotus-feeding streams,
And nursed our fancies in forgetful ease.
It matters little if they pall or please,
Dropping untimely, while the sudden
gleams

Glare from the mustering clouds whose blackness seems

Too swollen to hold its lightning from the trees.