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Last glorious drop his heart had shed,
Before his free-born spirit fled!

6. "Be this," she cried, as she winged her flight, "My welcome gift at the gates of light.






"Sweet," said the Angel, as she gave
The gift into his radiant hand,
"Sweet is our welcome of the brave
Who die thus for their native land.
But see—alas !—the crystal bar
Of Eden moves not-holier far
Than even this drop the boon must be
That opes the gates of Heaven for thee!"






7. Now, upon Syria's land of roses
Softly the light of eve reposes,
And, like a glory, the broad sun
Hangs over sainted Lebanon ;
Whose head in wintry grandeur towers,
And whitens with eternal sleet,
While summer, in a vale of flowers,
Is sleeping rosy at his feet.

8. But naught can charm the luckless Peri:
Her soul is sad, her wings are weary.
When, o'er the vale of Baalbec winging
Slowly, she sees a child at play,
Among the rosy wild-flowers singing,
As rosy and as wild as they,
Chasing, with eager hands and eyes,
The beautiful blue damsel-flies,
That fluttered round the jasmine stems,
Like wingèd flowers or flying gems:


And, near the boy, who tired with play
Now nestling 'mid the roses lay,
She saw a wearied man dismount

From his hot steed, and on the brink
Of a small imaret's rustic fount

Impatient fling him down to drink.
Then swift his haggard brow he turned
To the fair child, who fearless sat,
Though never yet hath day-beam burned
Upon a brow more fierce than that.

9. But, hark! the vesper-call to prayer,
As slow the orb of daylight sets,
Is rising sweetly on the air

From Syria's thousand minarets.
The boy has started from the bed
Of flowers, where he had laid his head,
And down upon the fragrant sod

Kneels with his forehead to the south,
Lisping the eternal name of God

From purity's own cherub mouth.

10. And how felt he, the wretched man
Reclining there-while memory ran
O'er many a year of guilt and strife,
Flew o'er the dark flood of his life,
Nor found one sunny resting-place,
Nor brought him back one branch of grace?
"There was a time," he said, in mild,
Heart-humbled tones, "thou blessed child!

11. “When, young and haply pure as thou, I looked and prayed like thee-but now "—

He hung his head-each nobler aim,
And hope, and feeling, which had slept
From boyhood's hour, that instant came
Fresh o'er him, and he wept-he wept.

12. And now behold him kneeling there

By the child's side, in humble prayer,
While the same sunbeam shines upon
The guilty and the guiltless one,

And hymns of joy proclaim through Heaven
The triumph of a soul forgiven!

13. 'Twas when the golden orb had set,
While on their knees they lingered yet,
There fell a light more lovely far
Than ever came from sun or star
Upon the tear that, warm and meek,
Dewed that repentant sinner's cheek.
To mortal eye this light might seem
A northern flash or meteor beam ;
But well the enraptured Peri knew
'Twas a bright smile the Angel threw
From Heaven's gate, to hail that tear
Her harbinger of glory near!

"Joy, joy forever! my task is done:
The gates are passed, and Heaven is won."


Thomas Moore was born in Dublin in 1779 and died in 1852. His widest and most enduring reputation is as the author of the “Irish Melodies," a collection of about 124 lyrics, adapted to Irish national airs of great beauty. His most pretentious work is his Oriental romance "Lalla Rookh," a string of stories told in sparkling verse. Moore was distinguished by the grace of his thoughts and sentiments, his wit and fancy, and the melody and refinement of his versification.

Eden (1), though properly the garden in which Adam and Eve first dwelt, in this case means heaven. Lebanon (7) is a mountain of Syria. "Whose head in wintry grandeur towers, and whitens with eternal sleet, while summer, in a vale of flowers, is sleeping rosy at his feet" (7) means that while the mountain-tops are white with snow the valleys are covered with fertile orchards, vineyards, and corn-fields. Baalbec (8) is a town of Syria. "The orb of daylight" (9) means the sun. "Cherub mouth" (9), that is, the mouth of a beautiful child, from the fact that modern artists have represented cherubs as beautiful children.


3. gāģe; n. a challenge to


3. prestige; n. influence.
3. vůl' ner ȧ ble; a. capable
of being wounded.

4. de sponden çỹ; n. aban-
donment of hope.

6. făth' ỏmed; v. got to the bottom of.

7. çit'ȧ del; n. stronghold.
9. tǎl' Iş man; n. something
that produces extraordinary

9. un' dis' çi plined; a. not instructed and exercised.

10. eŏm pēèrs'; n. companions; comrades.

14. vi çis' si tūdes; n. changes.

A Hundred Years of American Independence.

This eloquent and patriotic tribute to the greatness, the freedom, the liberality of our country is from an oration delivered July 4, 1876, in New York City. The date will account for what might be considered misstatements, as, for instance, when "thirty-eight States and Territories" (12) are spoken of.

1. You have all read the Declaration of Independence. A hundred years ago it was a new revelation, startling with new terror kings on their thrones, and bidding serfs, in their poor huts, arise and take heart, and look up, with new hope of deliverance. It asserted that all men, kings and peasants, master and servant, rich and poor, were born equal, with equal rights, inheritors of equal claim to protection from the law; that governments derived their just

powers, not from conquest or force, but from the consent of the governed, and existed only for their protection and to make them happy. These were the truths eternal but long unspoken-truths that few dared to utter, which Providence ordained should be revealed here in America, to be the political creed of the peoples all over the earth. Like a trumpet-blast blown in the night, it pealed through the dark abodes of misery, and aroused men to thought and hope and action.

2. And that trumpet-blast still is pealing and will peal, still summons whatever of manhood remains in mankind to assert itself. Still, at that sound, the knees of tyrants will be loosened with fear, and the hopes of freemen will rise, and their hearts beat faster and higher as long as this earth hangs poised in air, and men live upon it whose souls are alive with memories of the past.

3. The Declaration of American Independence was a declaration of war with Great Britain, war to the knife, and the knife to the hilt. There were fearful odds against the Colonies when they threw down the gage of battle. On one side was England-strong in the consciousness of wealth and power, strong in the prestige of sovereignty, fully armed and equipped for war, insolent, haughty, scorning even to entertain the idea of possible check or defeat. On the other side, the Thirteen Colonies, stretching, for the most part, along the seaboard, vulnerable at a hundred points, and open to attack by sea and land, without army, without navy, without money or ammunition or material of war, having for troops only crowds of undisciplined citizens, who had left for a while plow and anvil and hurried to the front with what arms they could lay hands on to fight the veterans of King George, skilled in their terrible trade by long service in European wars.

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