THE SEA. His comrade bent to lift him, but the spark of life had fled : And the soft moon rose up slowly, and calmly she looked down THROUGH the night, through the night, In the saddest unrest, Wrapt in white, all in white, With her babe on her breast, Walks the mother so pale, Staring out on the gale Through the night! HOME, SWEET HOME! Through the night, through the night, Where the sea lifts the wreck, Driving on to his grave Through the night! RICHARD HENRY STODDARD. HOME, SWEET HOME! 'MID pleasures and palaces though we may roam, There's no place like home! An exile from home, splendor dazzles in vain; There's no place like home! JOHN HOWARD PAYNE. " Mid pleasures & palaces though Be it ever. which seek through the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere! Home, home! sweet, sweet Home! like Home! An exile from Home, splendour dazzles in vain! – Oh, give для lowly thatch'd cottage again! The birds singing gaily that call Give me them! - and the peace of mind dearer than all! WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TREE. WOODMAN, spare that tree! Touch not a single bough! In youth it sheltered me, And I'll protect it now. 'Twas my forefather's hand That placed it near his cot; There, woodınan, let it stand: Thine axe shall harm it not. That old familiar tree, Whose glory and renown Are spread o'er land and sea, And wouldst thou hew it down? Woodman, forbear thy stroke: Cut not its earth-bound ties. O, spare that aged oak, Now towering to the skies! When but an idle boy, I sought its grateful shade; In all their gushing joy Here too my sisters played. My mother kissed me here, My father pressed my hand. Forgive this foolish tear, But let that old oak stand. 421 |