Oh, thus be it ever when freemen shall stand

Between their loved home and wild war's desolation;
Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the heav'n-rescued land
Praise the pow'r that hath made and preserv'd us a nation!
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: “In God is our trust!"

CHORUS

And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

JOHN ANDERSON, MY JO

John Anderson, my jo, John,
When we were first acquent,
Your locks were like the raven,
Your bonnie brow was brent;
But now your brow is beld, John,
Your locks are like the snaw:
But blessings on your frosty pow,
John Anderson, my jo.

John Anderson, my jo, John,
We climb the hill thegither;
And monie a canty day, John,

We've had wi' ane anither:

Now we maun totter down, John,
But hand in hand we'll go,
And sleep thegither at the foot,
John Anderson, my jo.

MEETING AT NIGHT

The gray sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low;
And the startled little waves that leap

Burns.

Browning.

In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And I quench its speed i' the slushy sand.

Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted match,

And a voice less loud, thro' its joys and fears,
Than the two hearts beating each to each!

THE HOUSE BY THE SIDE OF THE ROAD
S.W. Foss.

There are hermit souls that live withdrawn
In the peace of their self content;
There are souls, like stars, that dwell apart,
In a fellowless firmanent;

There are pioneer souls that blaze their paths
Where highways never ran;-

But let me live by the side of the road

And be a friend to man.

Let me live in a house by the side of the road,
Where the race of men go by-

The men who are good and the men who are bad,
As good and as bad as I.

I would not sit in the scorner's seat,

Or hurl the cynic's band;

Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

I see from my house by the side of the road,
By the side of the highway of life,

The men who press with the ardor of hope,
The men who are faint with the strife.

But I turn not away from their smiles nor their tears—
Both parts of an infinite plan;-

Let me live in my

house by the side of the road

And be a friend to man.

I know there are brook-gladdened meadows ahead And mountains of wearisome height;

That the road passes on through the long afternoon
And stretches away to the night.

But still I rejoice when the travellers rejoice,
And weep with the strangers that moan,
Nor live in my house by the side of the road
Like a man who dwells alone.

Let me live in my house by the side of the road
Where the race of men go by-

They are good, they are bad, they are weak, they are strong,

Wise, foolish-so am I.

They why should I sit in the scorner's seat

Or hurl the cynic's ban?—

Let me live in my house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

INDEX