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Flow on, fair stream! and, as thy waters speed

To Ocean's bosom, nor return again, In this we may a timely lesson read,

And think how swiftly to that troublous main,
Where our frail bark will a true pilot need,

Time bears us on, through pleasure and through pain,
And as the waves pass rapidly away,
We pass as certain and as swift as they.



ATTEND all ye who list to hear our noble England's praise,
I tell of the thrice-famous deeds she wrought in ancient days,
When that great fleet invincible against her bore in vain
The richest spoils of Mexico, the stoutest hearts of Spain.

It was atout the lovely close of a warm summer day,
There came a gallant merchant-ship full sail to Plymouth Bay;
Her crew had seen Castille's black fleet, beyond Aurigny's

isle, At earliest twilight, on the waves lie heaving many a mile; At sunrise she escaped their van, by God's especial grace; And the tall Pinta, till the noon, had held her close in chase. Forthwith a guard at every gun was placed along the wall; The beacon blazed upon the roof of Edgcumb's lofty hall; Many a light fishing-bark put out to pry along the coast; And with loose rein and bloody spur rode inland many a post. With his white hair unbonneted the stout old sheriff comes; Behind him march the halberdiers, before him sound the

drums; His yeomen, round the market-cross, make clear an ample

space, For there behoves him to set up the standard of her Grace. And haughtily the trumpets peal, and gaily dance the bells, As slow upon the labouring wind the royal blazon swells. Look how the lion of the sea lifts up his ancient crown, And underneath his deadly paw turns the gay lilies down. So stalked he when he turned to fight, on that famed Picard

field, Bohemia’s plume, Genoa's bow, and Cæsar's eagle shield: So glared he when at Agincourt in wrath he turned to bay, And crushed and torn beneath his claws the princely hunter


Ho! strike the flag-staff deep, sir knight: ho! scatter flowers,

fair maids: Ho! gunners, fire a loud salute: ho! gallants, draw your

blades: Thou sun, shine on her joyously-ye breezes waft her wide; Our glorious SEMPER EADEM—the banner of our pride. The freshening breeze of eve unfurled that banner's massy

fold, The parting gleam of sunshine kissed that haughty scroll of

gold; Night sank upon the dusky beach, and on the purple sea,– Such night in England ne’er had been, nor e'er again shall be. From Eddystone to Berwick bounds, from Lynn to Milford

Bay, That time of slumber was as bright and busy as the day; For swift to east and swift to west the warning radiance spread; High on St. Michael's Mount it shone-it shone on Beachy

Head. Far on the deep the Spaniards saw, along each southern shire, Cape beyond cape, in endless range, those twinkling points of

fire; The fisher left his skiff to rock on Tamar's glittering waves, The rugged miners poured to war from Mendip's sunless caves. O’er Longleat's towers, o'er Cranbourn's oaks, the fiery herald

flew; He roused the shepherds of Stonehenge, the rangers of Beau

lieu. Right sharp and quick the bells all night rang out from Bristol

town, And ere the day three hundred horse had met on Clifton down; The sentinel on Whitehall Gate looked forth into the night, And saw oerhanging Richmond Hill the streak of blood-red

light; Then bugle's note and cannon's roar the death-like silence broke, And with one start, and with one cry, the royal city woke: At once on all her stately gates arose the answering fires; At once the wild alarum clashed from all her reeling spires; From all the batteries of the Tower pealed loud the voice of

fear; And all the thousand masts of Thames sent back a louder

cheer: And from the farthest wards was heard the rush of hurrying

feet, And the broad streams of flags and pikes dashed down each

roaring street:

And broader still became the blaze, and louder still the din, As fast from every village round the horse came spurring in: And eastward straight, from wild Blackheath, the warlike

errand went, And roused in many an ancient hall the gallant 'squires of

Kent. Southward from Surrey's pleasant hills flew those bright

couriers forth; High on bleak Hampstead's swarthy moor they started for the

north; And on, and on, without a pause, untired they bounded still, All night from tower to tower they sprang—they sprang from

hill to hill, Till the proud Peak unfurled the flag o'er Darwin's rocky

dalesTill like volcanoes flared to heaven the stormy hills of WalesTill twelve fair counties saw the blaze on Malvern's lonely

heightTill streamed in crimson on the wind the Wrekin's crest of

lightTill broad and fierce the star came forth on Ely's stately fane, And tower and hamlet rose in arms o’er all the boundless plain, Till Belvoir's lordly terraces the sign to Lincoln sent, And Lincoln sped the message on o'er the wide vale of Trent; Till Skiddaw saw the fire that burned on Gaunt's embattled

pile, And the red glare on Skiddaw roused the burghers of Carlisle.



When from the sacred garden driven,

Man fled before his Maker's wrath,
An Angel left her place in heaven,

And crossed the wanderer's sunless path.
'Twas Art! sweet Art! New radiance broke,

Where her light foot flew o'er the ground;
And thus with seraph voice she spoke,

“ The curse a blessing shall be found.”

She led him through the trackless wild,

Where noontide sunbeam never blazed :
The thistle shrunk—the harvest smiled,

And nature gladdened as she gazed.

Earth's thousand tribes of living things,

At Art's command to him are given, The village grows, the city springs,

And point their spires of faith to heaven. He rends the oak—and bids it ride,

To guard the shores its beauty graced; He smites the rock-upheaved in pride,

See towers of strength, and domes of taste. Earth's teeming caves their wealth reveal,

Fire bears his banner on the wave,
He bids the mortal poison heal,

And the destroying knife to save.
He plucks the pearls that stud the deep,

Admiring Beauty's lap to fill;
He breaks the stubborn marble's sleep,

Rocks disappear before his skill:
With thoughts that swell his glowing soul,

He bids the ore illume the page, And proudly scorning time's control,

Commerces with an unborn age. In fields of air he writes his name,

And treads the chambers of the sky; He reads the stars, and grasps the flame

That quivers in the realms on high. In war renowned, in peace sublime,

He moves in greatness and in grace; His power subduing space and time, Links realm to realm, and race to race.



That is not home, where day by day
I wear the busy hours away;
That is not home, where lonely night
Prepares me for the toils of light;
'Tis hope, and joy, and memory, give
A home in which the heart can live:
These walls no lingering hopes endear,
No fond remembrance chains me here.
Cheerless I heave the lonely sigh-
Eliza, canst thou tell me why?
'Tis where thou art, is home to me,
And home without thee cannot be.

There are who strangely love to roam,
And find in wildest haunts their home;
And some in halls of lordly state,
Who yet are homeless, desolate.
The sailor's home is on the main,
The warrior's, on the tented plain,
The maiden's, in her bower of rest,
The infant's, on his mother's breast;
But where thou art, is home to me,
And home without thee cannot be.
There is no home in halls of pride,
They are too high, and cold, and wide.
No home is by the wanderer found;
'Tis not in place; it hath no bound,
It is a circling atmosphere
Investing all the heart holds dear;
A law of strange attractive force,
That holds the feelings in their course.
It is a presence undefined,
O’ershadowing the conscious mind,
Where love and duty sweetly blend
To consecrate the name of friend ;
Where'er thou art, is home to me,
And home without thee cannot be.



I wish I could as merry be,
As when I set out this world to see,
Like a boat filled with good companie,

On some gay voyage sent.
There Youth spread forth the broad white sail,
Sure of fair weather and full gale,
Confiding life would never fail,

Nor time be ever spent.
And Fancy whistled for the wind.
And if e'er Memory looked behind,
'Twas but some friendly sight to find,

And gladsome wave her hand.
And Hope kept whispering in Youth's ear,
Lo, spread more sail, and never fear,
For the same sky would still be clear,

Until they reach the land.

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