The first in war—the first in peace—
The first in hearts that freeman own;
Unparalleled till time shall cease—
He lives immortal and alone.
Yet let the rock-hewn tower arise,
High to the pathway of the sun,
And speak to the approving skies
Our gratitude to Washington.
The Sister's Appeal.
A Fragment.
* * * * * * * *
You remember—don't you, brother—
In our early years,
The counsels of our poor, dear mother,
And her hopes and fears?
She told us to love one another—
Brother, dry your tears!
We are only two, dear brother,
In his babel wide!
In the churchyard sleeps poor mother,
By our father's side!—
Then let us cherish one another
Till in death we bide.
* * * * * * * *
Song of the Reapers.
Joyous the carol that rings in the mountains,
While the cleared vales are refreshed by the fountains—
After the harvest the cheerful notes fall,
And all the glad reapers re-echo the call!
La ra la la, &c.