LAMENT FOR LAFAYETTE AUTHOR UNKNOWN All lonely and cold, in the sepulchre slumbers Too high in the theme for my harp's lowly numbers; The name by which freemen met death with a smile. Then arise, ye proud bards! give our hearts' mighty sadness A voice not unworthy a theme so sublime, For him, the bright day-star of freedom and gladness, Whose memory will glow through the far flight of time! He is gone, and forever! the pride of our nation, Thou camest to our shore when the day-star of freedom The heart of the freeman will bound at thy name; Thou champion of freedom! fell tyranny scorning, One world was too small for the blaze of thy fame! Bright, bright is the path thou hast left of thy glory, All hopes for the land of thy love died away. Thou art gone! thy pure soul on its voyage hath started; From its ashes the phoenix of freedom hath flown, To join the bright phalanx of heroes departed, Who dwell in the light of a fame like thine own. Thy fame hath no limit of kindred or nation; With Washington's blended, for ever the glory Shall form the proud theme of our bard's burning lays, While the banner of freedom shall proudly wave o'er thee, Thou mighty departed! thou light of our days; But still! my wild harp, all in vain we lament him; His praise must be sung by some loftier lyre; Let the soul-raptured bard use the gift heaven hath lent him, And weave for our hero a requiem of fire! LINES ON THE DEATH OF BABY B. H. One little bud the less, In nature's garden grows. Th' prattling birdie sleeps, In Paradise will bloom Close in his Maker's arms A cherub 'mong the bless'd. LOOK AHEAD AUTHOR UNKNOWN Whatever you do in this wonderful world, Keep out of the past From the first to the last, And away from its worries stay; The present has wealth you would never suspect, If prudent you are, and wisely elect To live in the light of to-day. The things that are past did very well once; That trouble you had with your fellow man There is all the more need That you start on a different trail. Don't take to the woods whatever you do, So cramped can we be in our mental states, That life will become a woful waste For its many outs and ins. But stop and reflect You will never be wrecked By your own or another's sins, If the past you will keep in its proper place And meet what is yours with a candid face'Tis the man of to-day who wins. LINES ON THE DEATH OF BABY B. H. One little bud the less, In nature's garden grows. Th' prattling birdie sleeps, While o'er his form th' wind In Paradise will bloom Close in his Maker's arms A cherub 'mong the bless'd. LOOK AHEAD AUTHOR UNKNOWN Whatever you do in this wonderful world, Keep out of the past From the first to the last, |