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"Take, Freedom, take thy radiant round,

"When dimm'd, revive, when lost, return, "Till not a shrine through earth be found, "On which thy glories shall not burn !”


There was heard the sound of a coming foe,
There was sent through Britain a bended bow,
And a voice was pour'd on the free winds far,
As the land rose up at the sign of war.

"Heard ye not the battle-horn?
-Reaper! leave thy golden corn!
Leave it for the birds of Heaven,
Swords must flash, and shields be riven !
Leave it for the winds to shed-
Arm! ere Britain's turf grow red !"
And the reaper arm'd, like a freeman's son,
And the bended bow and the voice pass'd on.

"Hunter! leave the mountain-chase,
Take the falchion from its place!
Let the wolf go free to day,
Leave him for a nobler prey!
Let the deer ungall'd sweep by-
Arm thee! Britain's foes are nigh !"
And the hunter arm'd ere his chase was done;
And the bended bow and the voice pass'd on.

"Chieftain! quit the joyous feast! Stay not till the song hath ceased. Though the mead be foaming bright, Though the fires give ruddy light, Leave the hearth and leave the hallArm thee! Britain's foes must fall," And the chieftain arm'd, and the horn was blown, And the bended bow and the voice pass'd on.

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-Foes are on thy native sea-
Give our bards a tale of thee !"

And the prince came arm'd like a leader's son,
And the bended bow and the voice pass'd on.

"Mother! stay thou not thy boy!
He must learn the battle's joy.
Sister! bring the sword and spear,
Give thy brother words of cheer!
Maiden! bid thy lover part,

Britain calls the strong in heart!"
And the bended bow and the voice pass'd on,
And the bards made song for a battle won.

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There is a land, of every land the pride,-
Belov'd by Heaven o'er all the world beside,
Where brighter suns dispense serener light;
And milder moons emparadise the night;
A land of beauty, virtue, valour, truth,
Time tutored age, and love exalted youth.
The wandering mariner, whose eye explores
The wealthiest isles, the most enchanting shores,
Views not a realm so beautiful and fair,
Nor breathes a spirit of a purer air;
In every clime the magnet of his soul,
Touch'd by remembrance, trembles to that pole;
For in this land of Heaven's peculiar grace,
The heritage of Nature's noblest race,
There is a spot of earth supremely blest,
A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest,
Where man, creation's tyrant, casts aside
His sword and sceptre, pageantry and pride;
Within his softened looks, benignly blend
The sire, the son, the husband, father, friend,
Here woman reigns; the mother, daughter, wife,
Strews with fresh flowers the narrow way of life;
In the clear heaven of her delightful eye,
An angel guard of loves and graces lie;
Around her knees domestic duties meet
And fire-side pleasures gambol at her feet.
Where shall that land, that spot of earth be found?

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Art thou a man? a patriot? look around;
Oh! thou shalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam,
That land-thy country, and that spot-thy home!

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I saw him on the battle eve,

When like a king he bore him!
Proud hosts in glittering helm and greave,
And prouder chiefs before him;
The warrior, and the warrior's deeds,
The morrow, and the morrow's meeds—
No daunting thoughts came o'er him ;-
He look'd around him and his eye
Defiance flash'd to earth and sky.

He look'd on ocean ;-its broad breast
Was covered with his fleet;
On earth, and saw from east to west
His banner'd millions meet.

While rock, and glen, and cave and coast,
Shook with the war-cry of that host,
The thunder of their feet!

He heard th' imperial echoes ring,
He heard, and FELT himself a king!

I saw him next alone; nor camp,
Nor chief his steps attended,
Nor banners blaz'd, nor courser's tramp
With war-cries proudly blended:
He stood alone, whom Fortune high
So lately seem'd to deify,

He, who with Heav'n contended,
Fled, like a fugitive and slave,
Behind, the foe,-before, the wave,

He stood,-fleet, army, treasure, gone,
Alone, and in despair!

While wave and wind swept ruthless on,
For THEY were monarchs there;
And XERXES in a single bark,
Where late his thousand ships were dark,.
Must all their fury dare :-

THY glorious revenge was this,
THY trophy, deathless SALAMIS !

Lines written by Lieut. JOHN MALCOLM, of the 42d Regiment. "Oh that I had the wings of a dove, that I might flee away and be at rest." So pray'd the Psalmist to be free

From mortal bonds and earthly thrall;
And such, or soon or late shall be,


Full oft the heart-breathed prayer of all
And we, when life's last sands we rove,

With faltering foot and aching breast,
Shall sigh for wings that waft the dove,
To flee away and be at rest.

While hearts are young, and hopes are high,
A fairy scene doth life appear;
Its sights are beauty to the eye,

Its sounds are music to the ear;
But soon it glides from youth to age,

And of its joys no more possess'd,
We, like the captives of the cage,

Would flee away and be at rest.

Is ours fair woman's angel smile,

All bright and beautiful as day?
So of her cheek and eye the while,

Time steals the rose and dims the ray?
She wanders to the Spirit's land,

And we with speechless grief opprest,
As o'er the faded form we stand,

Would gladly share her place of rest.

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Extract from Mr. LLOYD'S Speech, in the Senate of the Uniied States, in 1812, on the Bill for the increase of the Naval Establishment.

If we are going to war with Great Britain, let it be a real, effectual, vigorous war. Give us a naval force; this is the

sensitive chord you can touch, and which would have more effect on her than ten armies. Give us thirty swift sailing, well appointed frigates-they are better than 74's-two 36 gun frigates can be built and maintained for the same expense as one 74, and for the purpose of annoyance for which we want them, they are better than two 74's; they are managed easier -ought to sail faster, and can be navigated in shoaler waterwe do not want 74's-courage being equal, in line of battle ships, skill and experience will always ensure success-we are not ripe for them-but butt-bolt the sides of an American to that of a British frigate, and though we should lose sometimes, we would win as often as we should lose ;-the whole Revolutionary war, when we met at sea on equal terms, would bear testimony in favour of this opinion-Give us then this little fleet. well appointed-place your Navy Department under an able and spirited administration-Give tone to the service. Let a sentiment like the following precede every letter of instruction to the captain of a ship of war-"Sir, the honour of the nation "is in a degree attached to the flag of your vessel; remember "that it may be sunk without disgrace, but can never be struck

without dishonour."-Do this-cashier every officer who struck his flag; and you would soon have a good account of your navy. This may be said to be a hard tenure of service hard or easy, sir-embark in an actual, vigorous war, and in a few weeks, perhaps days, I would engage completely to officer your whole fleet from New-England alone.

Give us this little fleet, and in a quarter part of the time you could operate upon her in any other way, we would bring her to terms with you-not to your feet-No, sir; Great Britain is at present the most Colossal Power the world ever witnessed-her dominion extends from the rising to the setting sun. Survey it for a moment.-Commencing with the newly found Continent of New-Holland; as she proceeds she embraces under her protection, or in her possession, the Philippine Islands, Java, Sumatra, passes the coast of Malacca,-rests for a short time fruitlessly to endeavour to number the countless millions of her subjects in Hindostan-winds into the sea of Arabiaskirts along the coasts of Coromandel and Ceylon-stops for a moment for refreshment at the Cape of Good-Hope-visits her plantations of the Isles of France and Bourbon-sweeps along the whole of the Antilles-doubles Cape Horn to protect her whalemen in the Northern and Southern Pacific Oceanscrosses the American Continent from Queen Charlotte's Sound to Hudson's Bay-glancing in the passage at her Colonies of the Canadas, Nova Scotia and New-Brunswick-thence con

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