(=) Not so, when swift Camilla scours the plain,
Flies o'er the unbending corn, and skims along the main. POPE.


(o=) Go ring the bells and fire the guns,
And fling the starry banner out;
(_ff_.) Shout "FREEDOM" till your lisping ones
Give back the cradle shout. WHITTIER.


(_pl_.) "And now, farewell! 'Tis hard to give thee up,
With death so like a gentle slumber on thee!--
And thy dark sin!--oh! I could drink the cup
If from this woe its bitterness had won thee.
May God have called thee, like a wanderer, home,
My lost boy, Absalom!" WILLIS.


(_sl_.) The sun hath set in folded clouds,--
Its twilight rays are gone,
(o) And, gathered in the shades of night,
The storm is rolling on.
(_pl_.) Alas! how ill that bursting storm
(>) The fainting spirit braves,
(_p_.) When they,--the lovely and the lost,--
(_pl_.) Are gone to early graves!


(o) On! onward still! o'er the land he sweeps,
(>) With wreck, and ruin, and rush, and roar,