Part 21

That pledge the heavens above him heard, That vow the sleep of centuries stirred. In world-wide wonder listening peoples bent Their gaze on Freedom's great experiment.

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Thank God! the people's choice was just! The one man equal to his trust. Wise without lore, and without weakness good, Calm in the strength of flawless rectitude.

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Our first and Best--his ashes lie Beneath his own Virginia sky. Forgive, forget, oh! true and just and brave, The storm that swept above thy sacred grave.

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Then let the sovereign millions where Our banner floats in sun and air, From the warm palm-lands to Alaska's cold, Repeat with us the pledge, a century old!

Let a man fasten himself to some great idea, some large truth, some noble cause, even in the affairs of this world, and it will send him forward with energy, with steadfastness, with confidence. This is what Emerson meant when he said: "Hitch your wagon to a star." These are the potent, the commanding, the enduring men,--in our own history, men like Washington and Lincoln. They may fail, they may be defeated, they may perish; but onward moves the cause, and their souls go marching on with it, for they are part of it, they have believed in it.

HENRY VAN DYKE.

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O name forever to thy country dear! Still wreath'd with pride, "still uttered with a tear!" Thou that could'st rouse a nation's host to arms, Could'st calm the spreading tumult of alarms, Of civil discord, awe the threatening force And check even Anarchy's licentious course! Long as exalted worth commands applause, Long as the virtuous bow to virtue's laws, Long as thy reverence and honor join'd, Long as the hero's glory warms the mind, Long as the flame of gratitude shall burn, Or human tears bedew the patriot's urn, Thy sound shall dwell on each Columbian tongue And live lamented in elegiac song! Till some bold bard, inspired with Delphic rage! Shall with thy lusters fire his epic page!

In Fate's vast chronicle of future time, The mystic mirror of events sublime Where deeds of virtue gild each pregnant page And some grand epoch makes each coming age, Where germs of future history strike the eye And empires' rise and fall in embryo lie, Though statesmen, heroes, sages, chiefs abound Yet none of worth like Washington's are found!

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Rear to his name a monument sublime! Bid art and genius all their powers bestow, And let the pile with life and grandeur glow. High on the top let Fame with trumpet's sound, Announce his god-like deeds to worlds around! Let Pallas lead her hero to the field, In Wisdom's train, and cover with her shield. A sword present to dazzle from afar And flash bright terrors through the ranks of war. With port august let oak-wreath'd Freedom stand And hail him father of the chosen land; With laurels deck him, with due honors greet, And crowns and scepters place beneath his feet; Let Peace, her olive blooming like the morn, And kindred Plenty with her teeming horn, With Commerce, child, and regent of the main, While Arts and Agriculture join the train, Rear a sad altar, bend around his urn, And to their guardian, grateful incense burn! Let History calm, in thoughtful mood reclin'd, Record his actions to enrich mankind, And Poesy divine his deeds rehearse In all the energy of epic verse!

To future ages there let Mercy own He never from her bosom forc'd a groan; Here let a statesman, there a reverend sage To mark and emulate his steps engage, Columbia widow'd, count his virtues o'er, Around his tomb her pearly sorrows pour, And mild Religion of celestial mien Point to her patron's place, in realms unseen! Then stamp in gold the monument above The mournful tribute of a nation's love! But not alone in scenes where glory fir'd, He mov'd, no less, in civic walks admir'd! Though long a warrior, choice of human blood, As Brutus noble, and as Titus good! To all that formed the hero of the age, He joined the patriot and the peaceful sage, The statesman powerful and the ruler just, No less illustrious than the chief august; And to condense his characters in one, The god-like Father of his Country shone!

From an old Magazine.

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Hail, brightest banner that floats on the gale, Flag of the country of Washington, hail! Red are thy stripes with the blood of the brave; Bright are thy stars as the sun on the wave; Wrapt in thy folds are the hopes of the free. Banner of Washington!--blessings on thee!

Traitors shall perish and treason shall fail; Kingdoms and thrones in thy glory grow pale! Thou shalt live on, and thy people shall own Loyalty's sweet, when each heart is thy throne; Union and Freedom thine heritage be. Country of Washington!--blessings on thee!

WILLIAM S. ROBINSON.

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Point of that pyramid whose solid base Rests firmly founded on a nation's trust, Which, While the gorgeous palace sinks in dust, Shall stand sublime, and fill its ample space.

Elected chief of freemen! greater far Than kings whose glittering parts are fixed by birth-- Nam'd by thy country's voice for long try'd worth, Her crown in peace, as once her shield in war!

Deign, Washington, to hear a British lyre, That ardent greets thee with applausive lays, And to the patriot hero homage pays.

O, would the muse immortal strains inspire, That high beyond all Greek and Roman fame, Might soar to times unborn, thy purer, nobler name!

DOCTOR AIKIN.

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Had he, a mortal, the failings attached to man?--Was he the slave of avarice? No. Wealth was an object too mean for his regard, and yet economy presided over his domestic concerns; for his mind was too lofty to brook dependence. Was he ambitious? No. His spirit soared beyond ambition's reach. He saw a crown high above all human grandeur. He sought, he gained, and wore that crown. But he had indeed one frailty--the weakness of great minds. He was fond of fame, and had reared a colossal reputation. It stood on the rock of his virtue. This was dear to his heart. There was but one thing dearer. He loved glory, but still more he loved his country. That was the master passion, and with resistless might it ruled his every thought and word and deed.