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And when brave Stark in after time
Told the proud tale of wonder
He said the battle din was one

"Continual clap of thunder."

Two hours they strove-then victory crowned
The gallant Yankee boys.
Nought but the memory of the dead

Bedimmed their glorious joys;
Aye-there's the rub-the hour of strife,
Though follow years of fame,

Is still in mournful memory linked
With some death-hallowed name.

The cypress with the laurel twines-
The pæan sounds a knell,

The trophied column marks the spot
Where friends and brothers fell.

Fame's mantle a funereal pall

Seems to the grief dimmed eye, For ever where the bravest fall

The best beloved die.

18*

THE EFFECTS OF SIN.

BY REV. FRANCIS VINTON.

WHEN man came forth from the hands of God, he was upright, holy, perfect; and God pronounced him very good.

Not one stain of sin tarnished his moral nature. He was the image of God. Not a pang, nor a sorrow troubled his soul. He was the mirror of the divine happiness because he reflected the divine holiness. In original humanity what harmony, what beauty dwelt! It was a harp of many strings; but all were tuned by the Maker, and were struck into music by a heaven taught hand. It was a glorious humanity. Each faculty indeed was distinct like the colors of the rainbow, but they all were combined and melted into one another, shining forth as the brightness of the Father's glory—and as man trod the ground, the earth beheld the likeness of God.

Man sinned-the harp was broken-the strings were untuned, and instead of harmony, was discord. He sinned-the mirror was in fragments, each was stained, and soiled, and now reflected the distorted image of the Maker.

Man sinned. And the beauty of those blended colors was destroyed. Instead of the mild, and genial radiance of sunshine, was the glaring of fire. Hot passions burned furiously in that heart where pure affections had shone gently, and this altar of heaven became a laboratory of hell.-Man sinned. The fresh, and laughing earth now groaned. thorn, and thistle now sprang forth. The eye of the lion, and the tiger now shot glances of enmity, and savage lust, ravenous desires, and cruelty now circulated throughout the animate creation.

The

Man sinned, and all was cursed. Death made havoc first in Paradise, and sent decay, and sickness over every created thing. The exquisite body of man, which had stood like a finished temple, monumental of the skill of its architect, crumbled. Next to the soul, it was death's chiefest prey, and under his touch it was dissolved into dust. In the strong language of Scripture "Death reigned." He was Lord paramount over earth, and swayed his sceptre as king of terrors. By one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin, and so death passed upon all men. He was indeed an enemy. Had sin spoiled man alone, its ravages had been less fearful; but every creature was made subject to vanity, and delivered over to the bondage of cor

ruption, and so the whole creation groaneth and travaileth together in pain until now.

All evil, and

all death, are the fruits of the sin of Adam.

The

curse was upon all things, and annihilation brooded

on every creature that God had made.

ODE TO THE POPPY.

BY CYNTHIA TAGGART.*

THOUGH varied wreaths of myriad hues,
As beams of mingling light,

Sparkle replete with pearly dews,

Waving their tinted leaves profuse,

To captivate the sight:

Though fragrance, sweet exhaling, blend

With the soft, balmy air;

And gentle zephyrs, wafting wide,

Their spicy odors bear;

While to the eye,

Delightingly,

Each floweret laughing blooms,

And o'er the fields

Prolific, yields

Its incense of perfumes;

*Note 3.-See Appendix.

Yet one alone o'er all the plain,
With lingering eye I view ;
Hasty, I pass the brightest bower,
Heedless of each attractive power,
Its brilliance to pursue.

No odors sweet proclaim the spot, Where its soft leaves unfold; Nor mingled hues of beauty bright Charm and allure the captive sight, With forms and tints untold.

One simple hue the plant portrays
Of glowing radiance rare,
Fresh as the roseate morn displays,
And seeming sweet and fair.

But closer prest, an odorous breath
Repels the rover gay;

And from her hand with eager haste

"Tis careless thrown away;

And thoughtless, that in evil hour
Disease may happiness devour,

And her fair form, elastic now,
To misery's wand may hopeless bow.

Then Reason leads sad Sorrow forth,

To seek this lonely flower;

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