And all these "anthems" are rejected by the venerable committee! But must they all, therefore, be lost to the world? I hope not, my boy,—I hope not. Having some acquaintance with the discriminating rag-merchant to whom they were turned over as rejected, I have procured some of the best, from which to quote for your special edification.
Imprimis, my boy, observe this
NATIONAL ANTHEM.
BY H. W. L——, OF CAMBRIDGE.
Back in the years when Phlagstaff, the Dane, was monarch
Over the sea-ribbed land of the fleet-footed Norsemen,
Once there went forth young Ursa to gaze at the heavens—
Ursa, the noblest of all the Vikings and horsemen.
Musing, he sat in his stirrups and viewed the horizon,
Where the Aurora lapt stars in a North-polar manner,