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their sors fall on the field of Bunker Hill, and in the streets of Lexington and Concord,--and the very walls will cry out in its support.

Sir, I know the uncertainty of human affairs; but I see, I see clearly, through this day's business. You and I, indeed, may rue it. We may not live to the time, when this declaration shall be made good. We may die; die, colonists; die, slaves ; die, it may be, ignominiously, and on the scaffold. Be it so.

Be it so.

If it be the pleasure of Heaven that my country shall require the poor offering of my life, the victim shall be ready at the appointed hour of sacrifice, come when that hour inay. But, while I do live, let me have a country, or at least the hope of a country, and that a free country.

But, whatever may be our fate, be assured, be assured, that this declaration will stand. It may cost treasure, and it may cost blood; but it will stand, and it will richly compen'sate for both. Through the thick gloom of the present,

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We shall make this a glorious, an immortal day. When we ‘are in our graves, our children will honour it. They will celebrate it, with thanksgiving, with festivity, with bonfires, and illuminations. On its annual return, they will shed tears, copious, gushing tears, not of subjection and slavery, not of agony and distress, but of exultation, of gratitude, and of joy. Sir, before God, I believe the hour is come. My judgement approves this measure, and my whole heart is in it. All that I have, and all that I am, and all that I hope, in this-life, I am now ready here to stake upon it; and I leave off, as I begun, that, live or die, survive or perish, I am for the declaration. It is my living sentiment, and, by the blessing of God, it shall be my dying sentiment ;--independence now; and INDEPENDENCE FOREVER !!

And so that day shall be honoured, illustrious prophet and patriot! so that day shall be honoured ; and, as often as it returns, thy renown shall come along with it; and the glory of thy life, like the day of thy death,* shall not fail from the remembrance of men.

* Both of the distinguished patriots, in commemoration of whose lives anii services this Discourse was delivered, died on the same day, 4th July, 1826,-fifty years from the day on which the Declaration of Independence, of whirli one was the author, and the other the strenuous and eloquent advocate, was adopted by the American Congress.


The School-Boy.-THE AMULET.

The School-Bov had been rambling all the day,
A careless, thoughtless idler,—till the night
Came on, and warned him homeward :-then he left
The meadows, where the morning had been passed,
Chasing the butterfly, and took the road
Tõ'wărd the cottage where his mother dwelt.
He had her parting blessing, and she watched
Once more to breathe a welcome to her child,
Who sauntered lazily—ungrateful boy!
Till deeper darkness came o'er sky and earth ;
And then he ran, till, almost breathless grown,
He passed within the wicket-gate, which led
Into the village church-yard then he paused,
And earnestly looked round; for o'er his head
The gloomy cypress waved, and at his feet
Lay the last bed of many a villager.

But on again he pressed with quickened step,
Whistling aloud to keep his courage up."
The bat came flapping by; the ancient church
Threw its deep shadows o'er the path he trod,
And the boy trembled like the aspen leaf;
For now he fancied that all shapeless forms
Came flitting by him, each with bony hand,
And motion as if threatening ; while a weight
Unearthly pressed the satchel and the slate
He strove to keep within his grasp. The wind
Played with the feather that adorned his cap,
And seemed to whisper something horrible.
The clouds had gathered thickly round the moon ;
But, now and then, her light shone gloriously
Upon the sculptured tombs and humble graves,
And, in a moment, all was dark again.

O’ercome with terror, the pale boy sank down, ;
And wildly gazed around him, till his eye
Fell on a stone, on which these warning words
Were carved :-

" TIME! thou art flying rapidly,

But whither art thou flying ?"

To the grave—which yours will be

I wait not for the dying.
In early youth you laughed at me,

And, laughing, passed life's morning ;
But, in thine age, I laugh at thee-

Too late to give thee warning."
« DEATH! thy shadowy form I see,

The steps of Time pursuing :
Like him thou comest rapidly :

What deed must thou be doing ?"
“Mortal! my message is for thee:

Thy chain to earth is rended:
I bear thee to eternity:

Prepare ! thy course is ended!

Attentively the fainting boy perused
The warning lines; then grew more terrified ;
For, from the grave, there seemed to rise a voice
Repeating them, and telling him of time
Misspent, of death approaching rapidly,
And of the dark eternity that followed.
His fears increased, till on the ground he lay
Almost bereft of feeling and of sense.
And there his mother found him:
From the damp church-yard sod she bore her child,
Frightened to feel his clammy hands, and hear
The sighs and sobs that from his bosom came.

'Twas strange, the influence which that fearful hour
Had o'er his future life; for, from that night,
He was a thoughtful, an industrious boy.
And still the memory of those warning words
Bids him REFLECT,—now that he is a man,
And writes these feeble lines that others may.


Stanzas addressed to the Greeks.-ANONYMOUS.

On, on, to the just and glorious strife !

With your swords your freedom shielding: Nay, resign, if it must be so, even life;

But die at least, unyielding.

On to the strife! for 'twere far more meet

To sink with the foes who bay you,
Than crouch, like dogs, at your tyrants' feet,

And smile on the swords that slay you.

Shall the pagan slaves be masters, then,

Of the land which your fathers gave you ?
Shall the Infidel lord it o'er Christian men

When your own good swords may save you?

No! let him feel that their arms are strong,

That their courage will fail them never, —
Who strike to repay long years of wrong,

And bury past shame forever.

Let him know there are hearts, however bowed

By the chains which he threw around them,
That will rise, like a spirit from pall and shroud,

And cry "wo!” to the slaves who bound them

Let him learn how weak is a tyrant's might

Against liberty's sword contending;

find how the sons of Greece can fight,
Their freedom and land defending.

Then on! then on to the glorious strife !

With your swords your country shielding,
And resign, if it must be so, even life;

But die, at least, unyielding.

Strike! for the sires who left you free!

Strike! for their sakes who bore you !
Strike! for your homes and liberty,

And the Heaven you worship o'er you!


The Spanish Patriot's Song.-ANONYMOUS.

HARK! Hear ye the sounds that the winds, on their pinions.

Exultingly roll from the shore to the sea, With a voice that resounds through her boundless dominions? Behold, on yon summits, where Heaven has throned her,

'Tis COLUMBIA calls on her sons to be free!

How she starts from her proud, inaccessible seat; With nature's impregnable ramparts around her,

And the cataract's thunder and foam at her feet!

In the breeze of her mountains her loose locks are shaken,

While the soul-stirring notes of her warrior-song, From the rock to the valley, re-echo, “Awaken!

Awaken, ye hearts, that have slumbered too long!” Yes, despots ! too long did your tyranny hold us,

In a vassalage vile, ere its weakness was known; Till we learned that the links of the chain that controlled us,

Were forged by the fears of its captives alone.

That spell is destroyed, and no longer availing.

Despised as detested, pause well ere ye dare To cope with a people, whose spirits and feeling

Are roused by remembrance, and steeled by despair. Go, tame the wild torrent, or stem with a straw [them,

The proud surges that sweep o'er the strand that confined But presume not again to give freemen a law,

I or think with the chains they have broken to bind them. To heights by the beacons of Liberty lightened,

They're a scorn who come up her young eagles to tame; And to swords, that her sons for the battle have brightened,

The hosts of a king are as flax to a flame.


The Three Warnings.-MRS. THRALE.

The tree of deepest root is found
Least willing still to quit the ground.
'Twas therefore said, by ancient sages,

That love of life increased with years
So much, that, in our latter stages,
When pains grow sharp, and sickness rages

The greatest love of life appears.

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