And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, Is second childishness, and mere oblivion: WOLSEY'S SOLILOQUY AFTER HIS DOWNFALL. NAREWELL, a long farewell, to all my greatness! FA This is the state of man; to-day he puts forth His greatness is a-ripening - nips his root, WOLSEY'S ADDRESS TO CROMWELL. ROMWELL, I did not think to shed a tear CROM In all my miseries; but thou hast forced me Out of thy honest truth to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes; and thus far hear me, Cromwell; And when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold marble, vhere no mention Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not: Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, And Pr'ythee, lead me in: There take an inventory of all I have, To the last penny; 'tis the king's; my robe, And my integrity to heaven, is all I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell, OUR HEROES SHALL LIVE. H, tell me not that they are dead - that generous host, that airy army of invisible heroes. They hover as a cloud of witnesses above this nation. Are they dead that yet speak louder than we can speak, and a more universal language? Are they dead that yet act? Are they dead that yet move upon society, and inspire the people with nobler motives, and more heroic patriotism? Ye that mourn, let gladness mingle with your tears. He was your son, but now he is the nation's. He made your household bright now his example inspires a thousand households. Dear to his brothers and sisters, he is now brother to every generous youth in the land. Before, he was narrowed, appropriated, shut up to you. Now he is augmented, set free, and given to all. Before, he was yours: he is ours. He has died from the family, Not one name shall be for that he might live to the nation. gotten or neglected: and it shall by-and-by be confessed of our modern heroes, as it is of an ancient hero, that he did more for his country by his death than by his whole life. LAUS DEO! On hearing the bells ring on the passage of the Constitutional Amendment abolishing Slavery. STRIVE, WAIT, AND PRAY. TRIVE; yet I do not promise, STRE The prize you dream of to-day, Will not fade when you think to grasp it, And melt in your hand away; But another and holier treasure, You would now perchance disdain, Will come when your toil is over, And pay you for all your pain. Wait; yet I do not tell you, The hour you long for now, Will not come with its radiance vanished, An hour of joy you know not |