Light of our firmament, guide of our Nation,
Pride of her children, and honored afar,
Let the wide beams of thy full constellation
Scatter each cloud that would darken a star!
Empire unsceptred! what foe shall assail thee,
Bearing the standard of Liberty's van?
Think not the God of thy fathers shall fail thee,
Striving with men for the birthright of man!
Yet if, by madness and treachery blighted,
Dawns the dark hour when the sword thou must draw, Then with the arms to thy millions united,
Smite the bold traitors to Freedom and Law!
Lord of the Universe! shield us and guide us,
Trusting Thee always, through shadow and sun !
Thou hast united us, who shall divide us?
Keep us, O keep us the MANY IN ONE!
Up with our banner bright,
Sprinkled with starry light,
Spread its fair emblems from mountain to shore,
While through the sounding sky
Loud rings the Nation's cry—
UNION AND LIBERTY! ONE EVERMORE!
TALKING of sects till late one eve,
Of the various doctrines the saints believe,
That night I stood, in a troubled dream,
By the side of a darkly flowing stream.
And a "Churchman" down to the river came;
When I heard a strange voice call his name,
"Good father, stop; when you cross this tide,
You must leave your robes on the other side."?
But the aged father did not mind;
And his long gown floated out behind,
As down to the stream his way he took,
His pale hands clasping a gilt-edged book.
"I'm bound for heaven; and when I'm there,
Shall want my Book of Common Prayer;
And, though I put on a starry crown,
I should feel quite lost without my gown."
Ther he fixed his eyes on the shining track,
But his gown was heavy and held him back,
And the poor old father tried in vain,
A single step in the flood to gain.
I saw him again on the other side,
But his silk gown floated on the tide;
And no one asked, in that blissful spot,
Whether he belonged to the "Church" or not.
Then down to the river a Quaker strayed; His dress of a sober hue was made: "My coat and hat must all be gray—
I cannot go any other way."
Then he buttoned his coat straight up to his chin, And staidly, solemnly, waded in,
And his broad-brimmed hat he pulled down tight, Over his forehead so cold and white.
But a strong wind carried away his hat;
A moment he silently sighed over that;
And then, as he gazed to the further shore,
The coat slipped off, and was seen no more.
As he entered heaven his suit of gray
Went quietly, sailing, away, away;
And none of the angels questioned him
About the width of his beaver's brim.
Next came Dr. Watts, with a bundle of psalms
Tied nicely up in his aged arms,
And hymns as many, a very wise thing,
That the people in heaven, "all round," might sing
But I thought that he heaved an anxious sigh,
And he saw that the river ran broad and high,
And looked rather surprised, as one by one
The psalms and hymns in the wave went down.
And after him, with his MSS.,
Came Wesley, the pattern of godliness;
But he cried, "Dear me! what shall I do?
The water has soaked them through and through.”
And there on the river far and wide,
Away they went down the swollen tide;
And the saint, astonished, passed through alone,
Without his manuscripts, up to the throne.
Then, gravely walking, two saints by name
Down to the stream together came;
But, as they stopped at the river's brink,
I saw one saint from the other shrink.
"Sprinkled or plunged? may I ask you, friend,
How you attained to life's great end ?”
"Thus, with a few drops on my brow."
"But I have been dipped, as you'll see me now,
"And I really think it will hardly do,
As I'm close communion,' to cross with you;
You're bound, I know, to the realms of bliss,
But you must go that way, and I'll go this."
Then straightway plunging with all his might,
Away to the left-his friend to the right,
Apart they went from this world of sin,
But at last together they entered in.
And now, when the river was rolling on,
A Presbyterian Church went down;
Of women there seemed an innumerable throng,
But the men I could count as they passed along.
And concerning the road, they could never agree
The old or the new way, which it could be,
Nor ever a moment paused to think
That both would lead to the river's brink.
And a sound of murmuring, long and loud,
Came ever up from the moving crowd;
"You're in the old way, and I'm in the new ;
That is the false, and this is the true "—
Or, "I'm in the old way, and you're in the new;
That is the false, and this is the true."
But the brethren only seemed to speak:
Modest the sisters walked and meek,
And if ever one of them chanced to say
What troubles she met with on the way,
How she longed to pass to the other side,
Nor feared to cross over the swelling tide,
A voice arose from the brethren then,
Let no one speak but the holy men;"
For have ye not heard the words of Paul,
'Oh, let the women keep silence all ?'"'
I watched them long in my curious dream,
Till they stood by the borders of the stream;
Then, just as I thought, the two ways met
But all the brethren were talking yet,
And would talk on till the heaving tide
Carried them over side by side-
Side by side, for the way was one;
The toilsome journey of life was done;
And all who in Christ the Saviour died,
Came cut alike on the other side.
No forms or crosses or books had they;
No gowns of silk or suits of gray;
No creeds to guide them, or MSS.;
For all had put on Christ's righteousness.
HOW A MAN SHOULD BE JUDGED.
WHO shall judge a man from nature?
Who shall know him by his dress?
Paupers may be fit for princes,
Princes fit for something less.
Crumpled shirt and dirty jacket
May beclothe the golden ore
Of the deepest thought and feeling-
Satin vest could do no more.
There are springs of crystal nectar
Ever swelling out of stone;
There are purple buds and golden,
Hidden, crushed, and overgrown.
God, who counts by souls, not dresses,
Loves and prospers you and me;
While He values thrones the highest
But as pebbles in the sea.
Man, upraised above his fellows
Oft forgets his fellows then ;
Masters-rulers-lords, remember,
That your meanest hands are men!
Men of labor, men of feeling,
Men by thought and men by fame,
Claiming equal rights to sunshine
In a man's ennobling name.
There are foam-embroidered oceans,
There are little weed-clad rills,
There are feeble, inch-high saplings,
There are cedars on the hills;
God, who counts by souls, not stations,
Loves and prospers you and me;
For to him all vain distinctions,
Are as pebbles in the sea.
Toiling hands alone are builders
Of a nation's wealth and fame;
Titled laziness is pensioned,
Fed, and fattened on the same;
By the sweat of other's foreheads,
Living only to rejoice,
While the poor man's outraged freedom
Vainly lifteth up its voice.
Truth and justice are eternal,
Born with loveliness and light;
Secret wrong shall never prosper
While there is a starry night.
God, whose world-heard voice is singing
Boundless love to you and me,
Sinks oppression with its titles,
As the pebbles in the sea.
ARTEMUS WARD CROSSING DIXIE'S LINE. C. F. Brown.
THE train of cars in which I was to trust my walerable life was the scaliest, rickytiest lookin' lot of consarns that I ever saw on wheels afore. "What time does this string of second-hand coffins leave ?" I inquired of the depot master. He said direckly, and I went in and sot down. hadn't more'n fairly squattered afore a dark-lookin' man with a swinister expression on his countenance entered the cars, and lookin' very sharp at me, he axel me what was my principles ?
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