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For a Festival in Faneuil Hall. -Auld Lang Syne

FILL, brothers, fill!the brightest pour-
To them, the Great and Good,
Who thronged this Hall, in days of yore,
And firm for Freedom stood -
And firm, &c.

Not then the festive board was spread,
Those gallant men to cheer;
Not then its charm the wine-cup shed
Like that which sparkles here -
Like that, &c.

From them went up no merry song,
When they this temple filled;
But bold rebellion' fired each tongue,

And 'war' each bosom thrilled
And war, &c.

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"Twas for a prouder deed they mot, That should their names adorn; They came a glorious feast to set

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And nobly through their work they went,

In wisdom and in power,

And down to us the blessing sent

That crowns this happy hour

That crowns, &c.

Then, brothers, fill!

the brightest pour

To them, the Great and Good,

Who round this Hall, in days of yore,

For us and Freedom stood

For us, &c.

ODE,

For the Anniversary Festival of the Washington Light Infantry.—
Adams and Liberty

THE bugle is hushed, and the war-blade is sheathed Whose flash in the sunbeam to triumph directed; The olive's green branch with the laurel is wreathed, And Content tills the valley that Courage protected. Go on, lovely Peace,

Bid the war-tempest cease,

Till the isles of the ocean thy kingdom increase, And the ends of the earth swell thy chorus sublime 'Sleep, red-armed Destroyer, the slumber of Time!'

Round the festival board with full hearts we unite,
And pour to our fathers fame's purest libation;
The brave ones who grappled the foe in the fight,
The bold ones who spoke, and gave name to a nation!
To the great and the good,

Who for Liberty stood,

And traced her proud charter in letters of blood; Then raised their glad notes in the chorus sublime — 'Sleep, red-armed Destroyer, the slumber of Time!'

O Washington! dearest and best of our race!

Thy deeds through the night-cloud of ages shall lighten!

Thy name on his banner the soldier shall trace,

To hallow his death, or his triumph to brighten !—
Nor thee, Lafayette !

Shall our anthem forget,

Whose arm hurled the bolt where the battle-clouds met; Then who joined with our sires in the chorus sublime 'Sleep, red-armed Destroyer, the slumber of Time!'

Now the bumper-pledge drain-for ourselves let it flow!
May no arm the bright links of our brotherhood sever;
With a heart for each friend, and a blade for each foe,
Front face! to the board and the battle forever!
In mirth and in might,
Fellow-soldiers, unite

Hand to hand at the feast, hand to hand in the fight! In freedom and peace swell the chorus sublime 'Sleep, Spoiler of nations, the slumber of Time!'

DEATH OF AN INFANT.

ONE little bud adorned my bower,
And shed sweet fragrance round;
It grew in beauty, hour by hour,
Till, ah! the Spoiler came in power,
And crushed it to the ground.

Yet not forever in the dust

That beauteous bud shall lie;

No! in the garden of the just,

Beneath God's glorious eye, I trust,
"Twill bloom again on high.

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