While earth’s strolling millions point hither in glee,
“To the land of the brave and the home of the free!”
THE YANKEE GIRL.
She sings by her wheel at that low cottage door,
Which the long evening shadow is stretching before;
With a music as sweet as the music which seems
Breathed softly and faintly in the ear of our dreams!
How brilliant and mirthful the light of her eye,
Like a star glancing out from the blue of the sky!