Freeman, thy neighbour also has liberties;

This may subtract his rights from thy heritage,—

But Freedom without moderations

Were but the licence of pirate nations.

England in thee shines Liberty's excellence;
We are as free as serves for humanity,

Freespoken, freejudging, freeacting,

Nobody spying, and none exacting.

We love the Queen, and guard her with loyalty, She loves the People, ruling us faithfully,

And those who amongst us are wiser

Counsel her, each as a free adviser.

Thus we reform whate'er is iniquitous,
Thus we remove whatever is obsolete,
Yet always resolve to deal fairly

Even with those who deserve it rarely:

Thus in the light of rational liberty

Each of us walks a patriot Englishman—
Courageous, but boasting it never;

Moderate, honest, and patient ever.

And we can love our brethren in slavery,
Giving them all, with prodigal sympathy,
Our prayers, our blood, our treasure-

All we can give without stint or measure:

And we can hate the base and tyrannical,
Vowing to crush oppression and cruelty—

And sharing with peoples and races
All Christianity's gifts and graces.

England the free is Europe's deliverer,

Standing with France as warders of Liberty;

And Englishmen know how to use it,-
Englishmen only will not abuse it!

H

Courage.

(IN SAPPHIC STANZAS.)

NEVER went man courageously to dangers,

Fear and his constant spirit being strangers,

But, while he faced his enemies and hew'd them,

Soon he subdued them:

As he goes onward, perils seem to scatter,
Mind ever shows the conqueror of matter;

Even the mountain crags that toppled o'er him
Open before him;

Even the torrents, riotously wrathful,

Are to his footsteps fordable and pathful;

Even the prowlers, in the desert roaming,
Fly at his coming.

O man of faith, of energy, and boldness,Onward! in spite of darkness and of coldness,— Forward! for Conquest with triumphal pleasance Waits for thy presence:

Never, on Right and Providence relying,
Fail'd of Success, while duteously trying,

He, who resolves and wrestles like a Roman,
Yielding to no man!

Long Ago.

WHAT a gloom and what a chill
Hang about old haunts of ours,-

Where, at childhood's wayward will,

Long ago we gather'd flowers; Where, in youth's romantic prime, Long ago we met and parted,

In the olden golden time

When we went so eager-hearted!

O, but in those long agoes,

With their dreamy dear old places

And forgotten joys and woes.

And their unforgotten faces,

How much sorrow ever hides,

Leaving what we loved behind us;

While how swift our life-dream glides

These sad long agoes remind us!