JSIPETMAH WI DOZTAMOM TZJOM

Seen haply from afar,

Above the horizon's hoop,

A moment, by the railway troop,

As o'er some bolder height they speed, —

By circumspect ambition,

By errant gain,

By feasters and the frivolous,

Recallest us,

And makest sane.

Mute orator! well skilled to plead,

And send conviction without phrase,
Thou dost succor and remede

The shortness of our days,

And promise, on thy Founder's truth,
Long morrow to this mortal youth.

TERMINUS

IT is time to be old,

To take in sail:

The god of bounds,

Who sets to seas a shore,

Came to me in his fatal rounds,

And said: "No more!

No farther shoot

Thy broad ambitious branches, and thy root.

Fancy departs: no more invent;

Contract thy firmament

To compass of a tent.

There's not enough for this and that,

Make thy option which of two;

Economize the failing river,

Not the less revere the Giver,
Leave the many and hold the few.
Timely wise accept the terms,
Soften the fall with wary foot;

A little while

Still plan and smile,

And, - fault of novel germs,

Mature the unfallen fruit.

Curse, if thou wilt, thy sires,
Bad husbands of their fires,
Who, when they gave thee breath,
Failed to bequeath

The needful sinew stark as once,
The Baresark marrow to thy bones,
But left a legacy of ebbing veins,
Inconstant heat and nerveless reins, -
Amid the Muses, left thee deaf and dumb,
Amid the gladiators, halt and numb."

As the bird trims her to the gale,

I trim myself to the storm of time,
I man the rudder, reef the sail,

Obey the voice at eve obeyed at prime:
"Lowly faithful, banish fear,

Right onward drive unharmed;

The port, well worth the cruise, is near, And every wave is charmed."

BOSTON HYMN

THE word of the Lord by night
To the watching Pilgrims came,
As they sat by the seaside,

And filled their hearts with flame.

God said, I am tired of kings,
I suffer them no more;

Up to my ear the morning brings
The outrage of the poor.

Think ye I made this ball

A field of havoc and war,

Where tyrants great and tyrants small Might harry the weak and poor?

My angel, his name is Freedom,

Choose him to be your king;