OUR MONTHLY GOSSIP.

'76.

Pass, '75, across the Styx!

Make way for stately '76,

Who comes with mincing, minuet pace,

Well-powdered hair and patch-deckt face—

An antiquated kerchief on:

White-capped, like Martha Washington;

Clock-hosed and high-heeled slipper-shod,

To give no Nineteenth Century nod;

Nay, but a courtesy profound,

Whose look demure consults the ground.

O rare-seen bloom! No flower perennial,

This aloe-crowned Dame Centennial!

She comes with shades of days long fled—

Knee-breeched; long silk-stockingèd;

Well-braided queues; bright-buckled shoon

That flash with diamonds; gold galloon

On rebel uniforms of blue—-

A color that this land found true;

Three-cornered hats, and plumes that flew

Through conflicts where men dare and do.

A patriot throng, a gallant host,

Our Dame Centennial's train can boast.

O aloe-flower upon her brow!

Of what strange birth-pangs breathest thou,

The while we gaze with dreamy eyes

Back o'er a sea of memories,

And see thy seed of foreign skies

Here washt, to spring beneath our sun

And ripen till its bloom is won!

What storms have rocked thy stem aslant,

O changeful-nurtured Century-Plant!

Whose living flower now opens bland

Its kindly promise o'er the land!

With blood and tears 'twas watered,

The bud whose blossom now is spread

A floral cap her head upon,

Who, à la Martha Washington,

Our Dame Centennial now appears,

Our '76, our crown of years!

Brave preparations thee await,

O dame arrayed in olden state!

For thee, for thee, Penn's city stands

And stretches forth inviting hands

To guests of home and foreign lands,

And gathers all historic pride

Of ancient records at her side,

With gifts from all, on thee to rain

Who bring'st such mem'ries in thy train.

Hail, city well named "Brother's Love!"

The Quaker City of the dove,

That fain would call a land to fling

Its spites away, and 'neath thy wing

Renew the treaty made by Penn

In the wildwood with wilder men;

Yet true men still! Be this the token—-

loyal faith, a pledge unbroken!

O year that wear'st thy aloe-flower

So proudly! may thy touch have power

Of healing! May thy visage bland

Drive threatening discord from the land,

And thronèd Peace more firmly fix!

Then shall the elder '76,

From out the eighteenth century's band

Of Time's host in the shadowy land,

Greet thee as one true soul may smile

Upon another, where nor guile

Nor sorrow can its brightness dim.

So greet the clear-eyed seraphim—

So once in Eden's sinless bower

Unfading flower smiled on flower.

LATIENNE.