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A spirit in your echoes answer me, And bid your tenant welcome to his home Again !-0 sacred forms, how proud you look ! How high you lift your heads into the sky ! How huge you are ! how mighty and how free! Ye are the things that tower, that shine—whose smile Makes glad—whose frown is terrible—whose forms, Robed or unrobed, do all the impress wear Of awe divine. Ye guards of liberty, I'm with you once again !-I call to you With all my voice !-I hold my hands to you, To show they still are free. I rush to you As though I could embrace you!
- Scaling yonder peak, I saw an eagle wheeling near its brow O’er the abyss :-his broad-expanded wings Lay calm and motionless upon the air, As if he floated there without their aid, . By the sole act of his unlorded will, That buoyed him proudly up. Instinctively I bent my bow; yet kept he rounding still His airy circle, as in the delight Of measuring the ample range beneath And round about absorbed, he heeded not The death that threatened him. I could not shoot !-’T was liberty !--I turned my bow aside, And let him soar away!
THE TORCH OF LIBERTY.
Herself, the fair, the wild magician,
And named each gliding apparition.
'T was like a torch-race—such as they
Of Greece performed, in ages gone,
Passed the bright torch triumphant on.
To catch the coming flame in turn-
The clear, but struggling glory burn.
And, oh, their joy, as it came near,
'T was, in itself, a joy to seeWhile Fancy whispered in my ear,
“That torch they pass is Liberty!'
And each, as she received the flame,
Lighted her altar with its ray ;
Speeded it on its sparkling way.
From Albion first, whose ancient shrine
Was furnished with the fire already, Columbia caught the spark divine,
And lit a flame, like Albion's, steady.
The splendid gift then Gallia took,
And, like a wild Bacchante, raising The brand aloft, its sparkles shook,
As she would set the world a-blazing !
And, when she fired her altar, high
It flashed into the reddening air
Shrunk, almost blinded by the glare !
Next, Spain, so new was light to her,
Leaped at the torch-but, ere the spark She flung upon her shrine could stir,
'T was quenched-and all again was dark.
Yet, no—not quenched-a treasure, worth
So much to mortals, rarely dies— Again her living light looked forth,
And shone, a beacon, in all eyes !
Who next received the flame? alas !
Unworthy Naples.—Shame of shames, That ever through such hands should pass
That brightest of all earthly flames !
Scarce had her fingers touched the torch,
When, frighted by the sparks it shed, Nor waiting e'en to feel the scorch,
She dropped it to the earth—and fled.
And fallen it might have long remained ;
But Greece, who saw her moment now,
And waved it round her beauteous brow.
And Fancy bade me mark where, o'er
Her altar, as its flame ascended,
Who thus in song their voices blended :
‘Shine, shine forever, glorious flame,
Divinest gift of Gods to men !
To Greece thy ray returns again.
* Take, Freedom, take thy radiant round;
When dimmed, revive, when lost, return,
On which thy glories shall not burn !'
ADDRESS TO THE BRITISH COLONISTS IN 1767.
J. Dickinson. What have these colonies to ask, while they continue free? Or what have they to dread, but insidious attempts to subvert their freedom? Their prosperity does not depend on ministerial favours doled out to particular provinces. They form one political body, of which each colony is a member. Their happiness is founded on their constitution, and is to be promoted, by preserving that constitution in unabated vigour, throughout every part.--A spot, a speck of decay, however small the limb on which it appears, and however remote it may seem from the vitals, should be alarming. We have all the rights requisite for our prosperity.--The legal authority of Great-Britain may indeed lay hard restrictions upon us; but, like the spear of Telephus, it will cure as well as wound.-Her unkindness will instruct and compel us, after some time, to discover, in our industry and frugality, surprising remedies—if our rights continue unviolated :
-for as long as the products of our labour, and the rewards of our care, can properly be called our own, so long it will be worth our while to be industrious and frugal. But if when we plow-SOW—reap-gather—and thresh-we find, that we plow—SOW-reap-gather-and thresh for others, whose pleasure is to be the sole limitation how much they shall take, and how much they shall leave, why should we repeat the unprofitable toil ?-Horses and oxen are content with that portion of the fruits of their work which their owners assign them, in order to keep them strong enough to raise successive crops; but even these beasts will not submit to draw for their masters, until they are subdued by whips and goads.
Let us take care of our rights, and we therein take care of our prosperity. Slavery is ever preceded by sleep.' Individuals may be dependent on ministers, if they please. States should scorn it ;-—and if you are not wanting to yourselves, you will have a proper regard paid you by those to whom, if you are not respectable, you will be contemptible. But—if we have already forgotten the reason that urged us, with unexampled unanimity, to exert ourselves two years ago—if our zeal for the public good is worn out before the homespun clothes, which it caused us to have made-if our resolutions are so faint, as by our present conduct to condemn our own late successful example—if we are not affected by any reverence for the memory of our ancestors, who transmitted to us that freedom in which they had been blest - if we are not animated by any regard for posterity, to whom, by the most sacred obligations, we are bound to de. liver down the invaluable inheritance-then, indeed. any minister-or any tool of a minister—or any creature of a tool of a minister—or any lower instrument of administration. if lower there be, is a personage whom it may be dangerous to offend.
THE MAJESTY OF LAW. Extract from an Address delivered before the Law Academy of Phila
delphia, 'at the opening of the Session of 1826–7. By Joseph Hop. KINSON, LL.D. Vice Provost of the Academy.
How imposing is the majesty of Law ! how calm her dignity; how vast her power ; how firm and tranquil her reign! It is not by arms and fleets, by devastation and blood, by oppression and terror, she maintains her sway, and executes her decrees ;-sustained by Justice, Reason, and the great interests of man, she but speaks and is obeyed.
Even those who may not approve, hesitate not to support her; and the individual on whom her judgment falls, knows that submission is not only a duty he must perform, but that the enjoyment and security of all that is dear to him depend upon it.
A mind aocustomed to acknowledge no power but physical force, no obedience but personal fear, must view with astonishment a feeble individual, sitting with no parade of strength; surrounded by no visible agents of power; issuing his decrees with oracular authority, while the great and the rich, the first and the meanest, await alike to perform his will.
Still more wonderful is it to behold the co-ordinate officers of the same government, yielding their pretensions to his higher influence. The executive, the usual depository and instrument of power; the legislature, the very representative of the people, give a respectful acquiescence to the judgments of the tribunals of the law, pronounced by the minister and expounder of the law. It is enough for him to say, ' It is the opinion of the court,' and the remotest corner of our republic feels and obeys the mandate. What a sublime spectacle !—this is indeed the empire of the law; and safe and happy are those who dwell within it.
THE END OF THE WORLD.
THERE has been a time when our planet could not sustain beings of our species; and once again the time will come, when it will cease to be the dwelling-place of mankind, and will either assume a new form, or disappear from the rank of stars.
The earth bears in its bosom destroying powers; and bodies float around and near it, which threaten its dissolution.
Therefore, thou wilt not subsist forever, thou cradle of our race; thou land of blessing and cursing ; thou grave full of joy and life; thou paradise full of pain and death; thou scene for thousands of years of our wisdom and folly, our virtues and vices. No, thou canst not last forever! Thou thyself also, like every thing that thou bearest, must obey thy law, the law of mutability and destruction.