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THE VICTORY OF PERRY.-ALICE Cary.
SEPTEMBER 10, 1813.

Lift up the years! lift up the years
Whose shadows around us spread;
Let us tribute pay to the brave to-day
Who are half a century dead.

Oh, not with tears-no, not with tears,
The grateful nation comes,

But with flags out-thrown, and bugles blown,
And the martial roll of drums!

Beat up, beat up! till memory glows

And sets our hearts aflame!

Ah! they did well in the fight who fell,
And we leave them to their fame;

Their fame, that larger, grander grows
As time runs into the past,

For the Erie-waves chant over their graves,
And shall, while the world shall last.

O beautiful cities of the Lake,

As ye sit by your peaceful shore, Make glad and sing till the echoes ring, For our brave young Commodore!

He knew your stormy oaks to take

And their ribs into ships contrive,
And to set them so fine in battle line,
With their timbers yet alive.*

We see our squadron lie in the Bay
Where it lay so long ago,

And hear the cry from the mast-head high,
Three times and three, "Sail ho!"

Through half a century to-day

We hear the signal of fight

"Get under way! Get under way!
The enemy is in sight!"

Our hearts leap up-our pulses thrill,

As the boatswains' pipes of joy

So loudly play o'er the dash o' the spray,

"All hands up anchor ahou!"

* Perry, it will be remembered, cut down the trees, bunit and launched the ships of his fleet, all within three months.

Now all is still, aye, deathly still;

The enemy's guns are in view!
“To the royal fore!" cries the Commodore,
And up run the lilies and blue.*

And hark to the cry, the great glad cry,—
All a-tremble the squadron stands,—
From lip to lip, "Don't give up the ship!"
And then "To quarters, all hands!”

An hour, an awful hour drags by-
There's a shot from the enemy's gun!
"More sail! More sail! Let the canister hail !"
Cries Perry, and forward, as one,

Caledonia, Laurence, and Scorpion, all

Bear down and stand fast, till the flood
Away from their track sends the scared billows back
With their faces bedabbled in blood.

The Queent and her allies their broadsides let fall-
Oh, the Lawrence is riddled with storm!
Where is Perry? afloat! he is safe in his boat,
And his battle-flag up in his arms!

The bullets they hiss and the Englishmen shout-
Oh, the Lawrence is sinking, a wreck!

But with flag yet a-swing like a great bloody wing
Perry treads the Niagara's deck!

With a wave of his hand he has wheeled her about--
Oh, the nation is holding its breath!

Head foremost he goes in the midst of his foes
And breaks them and rakes them to death!

And lo, the enemy, after the fray,

On the deck that his dead have lined,

With his sword-hilt before to our Commodore,
And his war-dogs in leash behind!

And well the nation does well to-day,

Setting her bugles to blow,

And her drums to beat for the glorious fleet

That humbled her haughty foe.

The famous fighting flag was inscribed with the immortal words of the dying Lawrence, in large white letters on a blue ground, legible throughout the squadron.

QUEEN CHARLOTTE of the British line.

Ah, well to come with her autumn flowers,

A tribute for the brave

Who died to make our Erie Lake

Echo through every wave

"We've met the enemy and they're ours!”
And who died, that we might stand
A country free, and mistress at sea
As well as on the land.

MY GARDEN PLOT.

The Master came to his garden
At set of day.

"I come for your fairest flowers,"
We heard him say.

And I turned to my little plot
With drooping face;

I knew there was no fair flower
In all the place.

With trembling footsteps I wandered
My borders round;

I searched with most eager eyes, but
No blossoms found.

Weary, and troubled, and heart-sick,
I bent my head,

Over a poor withered rosebud,
Faded-nay, dead.

To and fro, through the garden paths,
Pressed eager feet,

Joyfully bearing bright treasures
Of blossoms sweet.

Cheerily echoed the voices,

Happy and gay;

Bright were the beautiful faces,
That passed my way.

And all but myself were laden
With burdens fair;

All but my empty hands carried
Their shining share-

Roses, and lilies, and violets,

Fragrant and sweet

To lay them with joy at

The Master's feet.

And I-I had nothing to bring; yet
I loved him so;

Not a single flower had I

My love to show.

Though to make my garden bloom
I toiled and tried,

Every plant that my hands had touched
Had drooped and died.

Still nearer the Master came, up
The garden path.

Oh! would he turn sadly away
In grief or wrath?

Should I see on his lovely face
A frown for me?

Even hear the reproachful words,
Nothing from thee?"

"Come unto me," he said. "My child
Sore needeth rest."

Then laid my poor wilted flower
Upon his breast.

And lo, at his touch it brightened,
Grew sweet and fair!

And lay on his heart the loveliest
Blossom there.

SPOOPENDYKE'S BURGLARS.

"Say, my dear," ejaculated Mr. Spoopendyke, sitting bolt upright in bed with a sudden jerk; "say, my dear, wake up! I hear burglars in the house."

"Who? what burglar?" demanded Mrs. Spoopendyke, as she popped up beside her husband. "Who's in the house?" “Hush! Quiet, will ye? I don't know which burglar, but I hear some one moving around."

"Oh, my! What shall we do?" inquired Mrs. Spoopendyke. Let's cover up our heads."

"Why don't you get up and light the gas?" propounded Mr. Spoopendyke in a hoarse whisper. "S'pose you can see who it is in the dark? Strike a light, can't ye? If you had your way we'd both be murdered in bed. Going to light up before we're killed?"

“I'm afraid,” whispered Mrs. Spoopendyke, sticking one foot out of bed and hauling it in as if she had caught a fish with it.

and have our throats "How'm I going to

"Going to sit there like a shot-tower cut?" interrogated Mr. Spoopendyke. find a burglar without a light. Find a match and light that gas now, quick!"

Mrs. Spoopendyke crawled out of bed and hunted around for a skirt.

"What's the matter with you? Can't you find a match? Why don't you move?" hissed Mr. Spoopendyke.

"I am, as fast as I can," replied his wife, her teeth chatter. ing. "I'm looking for a pin."

"Oh! you're moving like a railroad, ain't ye? I never saw anything fly like you do. All you want is to be done up in

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