whose children first gave their blood for American union and independence, and, eighty-six years later, gave it, first also, for a truer union and a larger liberty—here in the heart of Middlesex, county of Lexington and Concord and Bunker Hill, stand fast, Son of Liberty, as the minute-man stood at the old North Bridge! But, should we or our descendants, false to liberty, false to justice and humanity, betray in any way their cause, spring into life as a hundred years ago, take one more step, descend, and lead us, as God led you in saving America, to save the hopes of man! im' mi nent, threatening. in ex' o ra ble, unyielding. van' guard, advance-guard. THE VISION OF SIR LAUNFAL. JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. PRELUDE TO PART FIRST. Over his keys the musing organist, And builds a bridge from Dreamland for his lay: Then, as the touch of his loved instrument Gives hope and fervor, nearer draws his theme, First guessed by faint auroral flushes sent Along the wavering vista of his dream. Not only around our infancy Doth heaven with all its splendors lie; Over our manhood bend the skies; Against our fallen and traitor lives The great winds utter prophecies: With our faint hearts the mountain strives; Its arms outstretched, the druid wood Waits with its benedicite ; And to our age's drowsy blood Still shouts the inspiring sea. Earth gets its price for what Earth gives us; At the Devil's booth are all things sold, And what is so rare as a day in June? An instinct within it that reaches and towers, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers; 1In the Middle Ages kings and noblemen had in their courts jesters to make sport for the company. Each jester wore a cap hung with bells. The flush of life may well be seen Thrilling back over hills and valleys; The buttercup catches the sun in its chalice, With the deluge of summer it receives; And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and sings; Now is the high-tide of the year, And whatever of life hath ebbed away The breeze comes whispering in our ear, That maize has sprouted, that streams are flowing, That the robin is plastering his house hard by; 1 And if the breeze kept the good news back, We could guess it all by yon heifer's lowing,– Joy comes, grief goes, we know not how; Everything is upward striving; 'Tis as easy now for the heart to be true As for grass to be green or skies to be blue,'Tis the natural way of living. au ro' ral, dawning; roseate. ben e dic' i te, blessing. chal' ice, cup. chan' ti cleer, a cock. dru' id, an order of priests or teachers of religion in ancient Gaul and Britain. cou' ri ers, messengers. shrive, to receive confession and give absolution or impose penance. Sī nāi, mountain in Asia. theme, subject. vis' ta, outlook; sight. A LOST CHORD. ADELAIDE A. PROCTER. Seated one day at the Organ, I do not know what I was playing, Like the sound of a great Amen. |