148 POETICAL DECLAMATIONS A FAREWELL TO AMERICA. R. H. WILDE. FAREWELL! my more than fatherland! We part! for whom I grieve! -no matter how we part; Theirs is the love no time can chill, Only endears them more and more; I do not seek or hope to find, Roam where I will, what I deplore ears, THE FEATURES. N. M. MAGAZINE. THAT mortals are made up of quarrelsome clay, My tale, I imagine, will prove as it goes; First, the Lips took it up, and their reason was this: Then Eyes, not behind in the matter to be, With a sparkle began, as I've often times seen 'em, And vowed, "it was perfectly shocking to see Such a lump of deformity sticking between 'em." So 't was moved, and agreed, without dallying more, "By the breath of his nostrils, he'd stick to his place!" Then, addressing the Eyes, he went learnedly through His defence, and inquired, "when their vigor was gone, Pray what would their Worship for spectacles do, If the face had no nose, to hang spectacles on?" "Mankind" served, "loved their scent, as their sight; Or who a farthing for myrtles and roses? And the charge of the Lips was as frivolous quite; For, if Lips fancied kissing, pray, why might n't Noses? As for Ears,"—and, speaking, Nose scornfully curled "Their murmurs were equally trifling and teazing, And not all the Ears, Eyes, or Lips in the world, Should keep him unblown, or prevent him from sneezing." "To the Cheeks," he contended, "he acted as screen, And but that he stood like a landmark between, The Face had been nothing but cheek altogether!" With eloquence thus he repelled their abuse, With logical clearness defining the case; And from thence came the saying, so frequent in use, That an argument 's plain "as the nose on your face!" AWAY TO THE WEST. W. K. COLE. AWAY to the West, where the primeval wood 150 POETICAL DECLAMATIONS Where, pale in their beauty, the forest flowers bloom, Away to the West, by the Huron's green shore, Away in the West, 'neath the brightest of skies, Away to the West! ye who grovel and pine ow Make you chief of the manor, and lord of the soil. Ye famishing legions from Europe just fled, By the waves that have borne you across to our shore! Where the prairie lands smile and the forest trees bloom. BRUCE'S ADDRESS. R. BURNS. SCOTS, who have with Wallace bled! Scots, whom Bruce has often led! Welcome to your gory bed! Or to glorious victory! Now's the day, and now 's the hour- By oppression's woes and pains, But they shall—they shall be free! Lay the proud usurpers low! Tyrants fall in every foe! Forward! let us do or die! LA MARSEILLAISE, OR NATIONAL HYMN OF FRANCE.* C. W. BAIRD. COME, Sons of France, and on to glory! And opposing our patriot band! Hear in the fields their shouts and slaughters! E'en to your arms they come, And they butcher your wives and your daughters! What wills this conjured horde advancing, Of kings, of traitors, and of slaves? What wrath should their insults excite! 'Tis France they thus would blight, And restore us to slavery's vile hour! * From the French of Joseph Rougeu De L'Isle. 152 POETICAL DECLAMATIONS What! shall the legions of the stranger gory Great God! shall hands all chained and And disgrace our country's glory? For side! Tremble, ye tyrants, and each traitor, Yield us more, our efforts assisting! But, sons of France! in noble daring, But each cruel despot smother, And that tear the soft breast of their mother! Blest tie to France our hearts uniting, Advance with thy welcoming words; See us triumph, and thee glorious. To arms, my countrymen! form, form each daring band! March on march on ! Let their blood drench the furrows of our land! |