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Bird of Columbia! well art thou
An emblem of our native land;
With unblench'd front and noble brow,
Among the nations doom'd to stand;
Proud, like her mighty mountain woods;
Like her own rivers, wandering free;
And sending forth from hills and floods,
The joyous shout of liberty!
Like thee, majestic bird! like thee,
She stands in unbought majesty,
With spreading wing, untired and strong,
That dares a soaring far and long,
That mounts aloft, nor looks below,
And will not quail though tempests blow

The admiration of the earth,

In grand simplicity she stands; Like thee, the storms beheld her birth, And she was nursed by rugged hands; But, past the fierce and furious war, Her rising fame new glory brings, For kings and nobles come from far To seek the shelter of her wings. And like thee, rider of the cloud, She mounts the heavens, serene and proud Great in a pure and noble fame, Great in her spotless champion's name, And destined in her day to be Mighty as Rome-more nobly free.

My native land! my native land!

To whom my thoughts will fondly turn For her the warmest hopes expand,

For her the heart with fears will yearn Oh! may she keep her eye, like thee, Proud eagle of the rocky wild, Fix'd on the sun of liberty,

By rank, by faction unbeguiled; Remembering still the rugged road Our venerable fathers trod,

When they through toil and danger press'd,
To gain their glorious bequest,

And from each lip the caution fell

To those who follow'd, "Guard it well."



OH thou Atlantic, dark and deep,
Thou wilderness of waves,

Where all the tribes of earth might sleep
In their uncrowded graves!

The sunbeams on thy bosom wake,
Yet never light thy gloom;
The tempests burst, yet never shake
Thy depths, thou mighty tomb!

Thou thing of mystery, stern and drear,
Thy secrets who hath told?-
The warrior and his sword are there,
The merchant and his gold.

There lie their myriads in thy pall,
Secure from steel and storm;
And he, the feaster on them all,
The canker-worm.

Yet on this wave the mountain's brow
Once glow'd in morning beam;

And, like an arrow from the bow,

Out sprang the stream;

And on its bank the olive grove,
And the peach's luxury,

And the damask rose-the night-bird's love-
Perfumed the sky.

Where art thou, proud Atlantis, now?
Where are thy bright and brave?
Priest, people, warriors' living flow?
Look on that wave!

Crime deepen'd on the recreant land,
Long guilty, long forgiven;

There power uprear'd the bloody hand,
There scoff'd at Heaven.

The word sent forth-the word of woe-
The judgment-thunders peal'd;
The fiery earthquake blazed below;
Its doom was seal'd.

Now on its halls of ivory

Lie giant weed and ocean slime, Burying from man's and angel's eye The land of crime.



THE summer and the autumn had been so wet,
That in winter the corn was growing yet;
"T was a piteous sight to see all around
The grain lie rotting on the ground.

Every day the starving poor
Crowded around Bishop Hatto's door,
For he had a plentiful last-year's store,
And all the neighbourhood could tell
His granaries were furnish'd well.

At last Bishop Hatto appointed a day
To quiet the poor without delay,
He bade them to his great barn repair,

And they should have food for the winter there.

Rejoiced such tidings good to hear,
The poor folk flock'd from far and near;
The great barn was full as it could hold
Of women and children, and young and old.

Then when he saw it could hold no more,
Bishop Hatto he made fast the door;
And while for mercy on Christ they call,
He set fire to the barn and burnt them all.

"I'faith 't is an excellent bonfire!" quoth he,
"And the country is greatly obliged to me
For ridding it in these times forlorn
Of rats that only consume the corn."

So then to his palace returned he,
And he sat down to supper merrily,
And he slept that night like an innocent man,
But Bishop Hatto ne'er slept again.

In the morning as he enter'd the hall
Where his picture hung against the wall,
A sweat like death all over him came,
For the Rats had eaten it out of the frame.

As he look'd there came a man from his farm, He had a countenance white with alarm.

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My Lord, I open'd your granaries this morn,

And the rats had eaten all your corn."

Another came running presently,
And he was pale as pale could be.

"Fly, my Lord Bishop, fly," quoth he,


Ten thousand rats are coming this way,

The Lord forgive you for yesterday!"

I'll go to my tower in the Rhine," replied he, "Tis the safest place in Germany,

The walls are high and the shores are steep, And the strearn is strong and the water deep."

Bishop Hatto fearfully hasten'd away,
And he cross'd the Rhine without delay,
And reach'd his tower, and barr'd with care
All the windows, doors, and loop-holes there.

He laid him down and closed his eyes;
But soon a scream made him arise,

He started and saw two eyes of flame

On his pillow from whence the screaming came.

He listen'd and look'd; it was only the Cat;
But the Bishop he grew more fearful for that,
For she sat screaming, mad with fear,

At the army of rats that were drawing near.

For they have swum over the rivers so deep,
And they have climb'd the shores so steep,
And now by thousands up they crawl
To the holes and windows in the wall.

Down on his knees the Bishop fell,

And faster and faster his beads did he tell,
As louder and louder drawing near

The saw of their teeth without he could hear.

And in at the windows and in at the door,
And through the walls by thousands they pour,
And down through the ceiling and up through the

From the right and the left, from behind and before,
From within and without, from above and below,
And all at once to the Bishop they go.

They have whetted their teeth against the stones,
And now they pick the Bishop's bones,
They gnaw'd the flesh from every limb,
For they were sent to do judgment on him!


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