d the sky, and the sea,
'Till the world laugheth out in her fullness of glee!

See it all smileth fairest--'tis beauty above,
In Heaven and Earth 'tis but beauty and love;
With harmony dancing--a scene like a dream,
When Heaven comes down on the spirit to beam!

Oh the water! the water! man, quaff its bright flow;
It will gladden thy spirit, but give thee no woe:
As it fresh'neth the world, so its rills will impart
Health, gladness, and sweetness and joy to thy heart.

But oh, the foul demons (horrific to tell)
Have mixed a fierce poison, the wild flame of hell;
And it killeth each fairest and loveliest thing
That the earth ever knew in her bridal of Spring.

'Tis the wild stream of hell! oh it burneth the soul,
It scatheth, and blighteth, and killeth the whole;
Yet, a Vulture, it gnaweth the quivering liver,
Forever consuming, but satiate never.

Ay, it fills the wide world with the wailing and woe,
That liken the shrieking of Devils below:
And the words of the eloquent never can tell,
The abyss of this anguish, this foretaste of Hell.

Oh God of the curst! turn this fierce stream away,
In trembling, and misery, and anguish we pray;
Make the waters of Temperance flow wide o'er the Earth,
Till she shine as of yore in the smile of her birth!

BLANNERHASSETT'S ISLAND.

On beautiful Ohio when you sail,
And view its banks, forever green and fair,
And feel the falling sunlight, and the gale
That freshly stirs that wild and western air;
You may observe a lovely island there,
A greenery spot, enclosed by waters bright,
A spot of beauty, and a spot most rare;
There the fair summer moon sheds softest light,
And summer stars look down from heaven's cerulean height.

Around that isle, a mournful story clings,
That ever wakes a soft and sad regret,
In those who feel the sorrow which it brings,
All swift and fresh upon the memory yet,
Of those who sail beyond it, brightly set,
An emerald within that crystal flood;
Its sad, strange name a feeling doth beget
That wakes a sigh in bosoms meek and good,
And leaves the thoughtful sprite in no ungrateful mood.

Here Blannerhasset[E] dwelt; a blest recluse,
In this green Eden of the leafy West;
And felt sweet Peace her softest balm infuse,
Into his once too world-disturbed breast:
There did he find a deep and quiet rest:
The mockbird sang his vespers, while the star
Shone sweetly o'er the rippling river's crest;
There no rude sound