For Freedom's ear the maiden strikes her notes,
And steps in beauty where his banner floats.

Still to the glowing West she moves to sing,
Where Rome's exploring bird ne'er bathed his wing,
Till, snow-crowned hills and sun-kissed valleys past,
Here, Gallia's offspring hails her sight at last!

Child of Renown! before whose infant hand The wreathed invader withered from the land, Thy Deed shall freshen on the penman's page, The shame and glory of a wondering age, And still reviving in the poet's lay, Thrill the young warrior of some distant day. In arms supreme, come forth to greatness dear, Protect the Pilgrim and the Patriot cheer; Thy slumbering shield with olive garlands dressed, Rise! crowned by Science, Monarch of the West! And thou, inspiring Dome! to greet thy reign, The Muse, exulting, pours her prophet strain. For thee the bard shall draw, from every clime, The swelling triumph, and the curtained crime; Death's moss-grown gates unbar, the sleepers wake, To charm the good, and bid the guilty quake; Love's moonlight scene, War's crimson deed unfold, And all the legends of the days of old.

Wisdom and Wit thy guardian priests shall stand, And Taste refine, as Truth reforms the land; Rapture and Grief their rose and cypress twine, And every heart go mended from thy shrine.

Here pranking youth shall learn, in Pleasure's school,
To hate the folly, and to shun the fool ;

Vice, saddening here, shall live for purer days,
And Goodness sanction, while her children gaze;
Learning shall close his page for thy white hour,
And love-lipped Beauty leave her evening bower,
With soul all gladness, and with eye all light,
To hail thy altar, and to bless thy rite.

Here, too, O kindling thought! when Time shall shed His holy incense o'er the mighty dead,

For thee the Sage shall burst his sacred grave,
To guide in death the realm he lived to save ;
For thee the Chief revive the battle's roar,
And wake the sons, whose sires he led before.

Thus shalt thou triumph, decked with every grace,
To charm another and another race;

And, one long day of quenchless splendor past,
Blessed by the beamy god, in glory go at last!

ODE,

For the Fourth of July, 1827.

To the Sages who spoke to the Heroes who bled

To the Day, and the Deed-strike the harp-strings of

glory!

Let the song of the Ransomed remember the Dead,
And the tongue of the Eloquent hallow the story.
O'er the bones of the Bold

Be that story long told,

And on Fame's golden tablets their triumphs enrolled, Who on Freedom's green hills Freedom's banner unfurled, And the beacon-fire raised that gave light to the world.

They are gone Mighty Men!-and they sleep in their

fame;

Shall we ever forget them? - O never! — no, never!— Let our Sons learn from us to embalm each great name, And the anthem send down" Independence forever." * Wake, wake, heart and tongue!

Keep the theme ever young

Let their deeds through the long line of ages be

sung,

Who on Freedom's green hills Freedom's banner unfurled, And the beacon-fire raised that gave light to the world.

*The dying words of the venerable John Adams, whose decease was on July 4.

SONG,

Written for the Parting Dinner given to Lafayette by the Massachusetts

Till

Him, who shared their hour of woe;
Him, who dealt with them each blow,
young freedom's beaten foe
Turned his back and fled.
Lo! again behold him here! —
He, who came the sires to cheer,
Joins their sons the Pile to rear
O'er the mighty dead.

Where your martyred heroes sleep, Children's children long shall weep; There shall pilgrim warriors keep Vigils, ever bright.

Sons of Art! the table throng;
Swell your glad and grateful song;
Let its echoes, loud and long,
Up to Heaven ascend !

Never may your hearts forget
Freeman's duty-Freeman's debt:

Fill the cup to Lafayette;

Pledge your Fathers' Friend!