I'm picturing alone a glad young face,
Upturned to his mother's in playful grace;
And the unsealed fountains of grief and joy
That gushed at the birth of that beautiful boy.
I'm weeping alone that the vision is fled,
The leaves all faded, the fruitage shed,
And wishing this earth more gifts from above,
Our reason made right and hearts all love.
Lynn, Mass., September 3, 1866.
THE UNITED STATES TO GREAT BRITAIN
Lord of the main and manor!
Thy palm, in ancient day,
Didst rock the country's cradle
That wakes thy laureate's lay.
The hoar fight is forgotten;
Our eagle, like the dove,
Returns to bless a bridal
Betokened from above.
List, brother! angels whisper
To Judah's sceptered race,—
"Thou of the self-same spirit,
Allied by nations' grace,