Leap forth to light

If tyrants smite,

And trust our arms to wield thee right,

Good sword!

CHORUS

Yes! cease thy proud task never
While rests a link to sever!

Guard of the free,

We'll cherish thee,

And keep thee bright forever!

S

FLORENCE BEAMISH

(Living)

SLEEP ON

LEEP on, for I know 'tis of me you are dreaming,
Sleep on, till the sun comes to give you a call,
Though the pride of my heart is to see your eye
beaming,

Yet still to be dreamt of is better than all.
For then 'tis to yours that my heart's always speaking,
And then 'tis the spell that enchains it gives way,
And reveals all the love that I never, when waking,
Could get round my tongue in the daylight to say.

Yes, sleep on, mavourneen, my joy, and my treasure,
Not often does sleep get a comrade so fair,
And no wonder it is that his eye takes a pleasure

To watch by your pillow while you slumber there.
Then sleep-softly sleep, till the day-dawn is breaking,
And peeps in to give you a smile and a call,
For though great as my joy is to see you when waking,
Yet still to be dreamt of is better than all!

GEORGE BERKELEY, BISHOP OF CLOYNE

(1684-1753)

ON THE PROSPECT OF PLANTING ARTS
AND LEARNING IN AMERICA

HE Muse, disgusted at an age and clime
Barren of every glorious theme,

TH

In distant lands now waits a better time
Producing subjects worthy fame :

In happy climes, where from the genial sun
And virgin earth such scenes ensue,
The force of art by nature seems outdone,
And fancied beauties by the true.

In happy climes, the seat of innocence,
Where nature guides and virtue rules;
When men shall not impose for truth and sense
The pedantry of courts and schools;

There shall be sung another golden age,
The rise of empire and of arts,
The good and great inspiring epic rage
The wisest heads and noblest hearts.

Not such as Europe breeds in her decay-
Such as she bred when fresh and young,
When heavenly flame did animate her clay,
By future poets shall be sung.

Westward the course of empire takes its way, The four first acts already past;

A fifth shall close the drama with the dayTime's noblest offspring is the last.

ISAAC BICKERSTAFF
(1735-1812)

T

SONG

From "Love in a Village"

HERE was a jolly miller once,
Lived on the river Dee;

He worked and sang, from morn to

night;

No lark so blithe as he.

And this the burden of his song,

Forever used to be,—

"I care for nobody, not I,

If no one cares for me."

TWO SONGS

From "Thomas and Sally, or the Sailor's Return "

I

Y time how happy once and gay!

MY

Oh! blithe I was as blithe could be; But now I'm sad, ah, well-a-day!

For my true love is gone to sea.

The lads pursue, I strive to shun;

Though all their arts are lost on me;

For I can never love but one,

And he, alas! has gone to sea.