One land the Grecian madman boasts,
Another claims the conquering Swede;
One, echoing back the name of Tell,
Holds up her hands from fetters freed!

V.

Yet brightest on the lists of fame,
Bright with the glory Virtue gives,
Enshrined within a nation's heart,
Our Pater Patriæ ever lives!

VI.

No tear-stained laurels bind his brow,
No bleeding land has cursed his birth;
A world's proud meed hath given him place
Above the honored names of earth.

Horace.


[SKETCHES OF EAST-FLORIDA.]

NUMBER TWO.
MY LAST NIGHT ON GUARD.