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"It is nothing to me," the young man cried,
In his eye was a flash of scorn and pride,
"I heed not the dreadful tales

ye

tell,

I can rule myself, I know full well."

But 'twas something to him when in prison he lay

A victim to drink, life ebbing away,

He thought of his wretched child and wife

And the mournful wreck of his wasted life.

"It is nothing to me," the voter said,
"The party's loss is my geatest dread;"
So he gave his vote for the liquor trade,

Though hearts were crushed and drunkards made.
But 'twas something to him in after life,

When his daughter became a drunkard's wife,
And her hungry children cried for bread

And shuddered to hear their father's tread.

Is it nothing for us to idly sleep,

While the cohorts of death their vigils keep,
To gather the young and thoughtless in
And grind in our midst a grist of sin?
Is it nothing-yes, all for us to stand
And clasp by faith our Saviour's hand,
And learn to labor, live and fight
For truth and justice and the right.

THE FLIGHT OF THE BIRDS.

E. C. STEDMAN.

Whither away, Robin,
Whither away?

Is it through envy of the maple leaf,

Whose blushes mock the crimson of thy breast,
Thou wilt not stay?

The summer days were long, yet all too brief
The happy season thou hast been our guest;
Whither away?

Whither away, Blue-bird,
Whither away?

The blast is chill, yet in the upper sky
Thou still canst find the color of thy wing,
The hue of May.

Warbler, why speed thy southern flight? ah, why,
Thou too, whose song first told us of the Spring?
Whither away?

Whither away, Swallow,
Whither away?

Canst thou no longer tarry in the North,

Here, where our roof so well hath screened thy nest

Not one short day?

Wilt thou-as if thou human wert-go forth
And wanton far from those who love thee best?
Whither away?

CLEAR THE WAY.

Men of thought, be up and stirring night and

day,

Sow the seed-withdraw the curtain, clear the

way!

Men of action, aid and cheer them as ye may.
There's a fount about to stream,

There's a light about to beam,
There's a warmth about to glow,
There's a flower about to blow,

There's a midnight blackness changing into gray,
Men of thought, and men of action, clear the way.
Once the welcome light was broken, who shall

say

What the unimagined glories of the day?
What the evil that shall perish in its ray?
Aid the dawning tongue and pen,
Aid it hopes of honest men.
Aid it paper-aid it type,

Aid it for the hour is ripe,

And our earnest must not slacken into play. Men of thought, and men of action, clear the way! Lo! a cloud about to vanish from the day

And a brazen wrong crumble into clay.

Lo! the right's about to conquer, clear the way!
With the right shall many more

Enter smiling at the door;
With the giant wrong shall fall
Many others, great and small,

That for ages long have held us for their prey,
Men of thought, and men of action, clear the way!

SCOTT AND THE VETERAN.

BAYARD TAYLOR.

An old crippled veteran to the War Department of fame

came,

He sought the Chief who led him on many a field

The Chief who shouted "Forward!" where'er his banner rose,

And bore its stars in triumph behind the flying foes.

"Have you forgotten, General," the battered soldier cried,

"The days of eighteen hundred twelve, when I was at your side?

Have you forgotten Johnson, who fought at Lundy's Lane?

'Tis true I'm old and pensioned, but I want to fight again.'

"Have I forgotten?" said the Chief; "my brave old soldier, no!

And here's the hand I gave you then, and let it tell you so;

But you have done your share, my friend; you're crippled, old, and gray,

And we have need of younger arms and fresher blood to-day."

"But General," cried the veteran, a flush upon his

brow,

"The very men who fought with us, they say, are aitors now!

They v torn the flag of Lundy's Lane, our old red, white and blue,

And while a drop of blood is left, I'll show that drop is true.

"I'm not so weak but I can strike, and I've a good

old gun,

To get the range of traitors' hearts, and prick them,

one by one.

Your Minie rifles and such arms, it ain't worth

while to try;

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