The Tombs of England's honored dead
Are, like her annals, grand;
Leaning o'er Chatham's buried head,
Drooping by Nelson's trophied bed,
As if their hearts of marble bled,
Art's silent mourners stand.

But how, my Country, hast thou shrined
Thy patriot-heroes' dust?

Hath he, in whose majestic mind
All human virtues were combined-
Hath he-the Champion of mankind-
Carved urn or laureled bust?

No-from his Tomb th' unsculptured stones,
Mildewed, and broken, fall;

No marble warders guard his bones,
His grave nor state nor nation owns,
And he who startled Europe's thrones
Neglected lies of all.

The monuments that Nature gave

Are melting fast away:

The branched for NEW YORK

Like banner

the good and BRARY

Torn rudely from is hallowed grave,

Are speculation's prey!

Conquered Cornwallis rests in state,

So Howe and BTORje LENOX AND
For Britain pars pEN FOUNDATIONS.
not
Against e'en her detented ret

While we to him, whose sword was fate,
Atting tomb deny.

Sons of the Soil -heirs of the fame
Earth's purest patriot won,

Let not his memory be your shame,
The sordid ransom give, and claim
The DUST OF WASHINGTON !

FAREWELL ADDRESS.-In the National Intel- | ligencer, during the year 1857, was given an extract from a letter written by a lady eighty years of age, residing in Philadelphia, to her grandson in Washington, describing the scene at the delivery of Washington's Farewell Address. The scene is graphically described, and we reproduce the extract, as appropriate at this time:

"When General Washington delivered his farewell address, in the room at the southeast corner of Chestnut and Sixth Streets, I sat immediately in front of him. It was in the room the Congress occupied. There was a narrow passage from the door of the entrance to the room, which was on the east, dividing Gen.

the rows of bench NEW

ped at the en oplet Washington stop

Mr.

chair. The latter alway LIBRA

to the suit of

bright drab with slash, or rather loose cuffs.

He also ore

ARTARY CEwies. He had not

AND short man,

was

changed his fashiols FOUNDATIONS my heat

with a good head. With

tended our church twice a day. Gen. Washington's dress was a full suit of black. His military hat was a black cockade. There stood the father of his country, acknowledged by nations the first in war, first in peace, first in the hearts of his countrymen.' No marshals with gold-colored scarfs; no cheering. The most profound stillness greeted him, as if that great assembly desired to hear him breathe and catch his breath-the homage of the heart. Mr. Adams covered his face with both his hands. The sleeves of his coat and his hands were covered with tears. Every now and then there was a suppressed sob. I cannot describe Washington's appearance as I felt it-perfectly composed and self-possessed to the close of his address. Then, when strong men's sobs broke loose, when tears covered their faces, then the great man was shaken. I never took my eyes from his face. Large drops came from his eyes. He looked, to the grateful children who were parting with their father, their friend, as if his heart was with them, and would be to the end."