s! faint not now--
Ours is a manly part!
Toil, for a glorious meed is ours--
The fulcrum of all earthly powers
Is in our hands and heart.

Toil, toil, toil--
Life is labor and love:
Live, love and labor is then our song,
Till we lay down our toils for the resting throng,
With our Architect above.
Then monuments will stand
That need no polish'd rhyme--
Firm as the everlasting hills,
High as the clarion note that swells
The "praises of all time."

ODE TO DEATH.

I do not fear thee, Death!
I have a bantering thought!--though I am told
Thou art inflexible, and stern, and bold;
And that thy upas breath
Rides on the vital air;
Monarch and Prince of universal clime,
Executor of the decrees of Time--
Sin's dark, eternal heir.

Over the land and sea
Is felt the swooping of thy ebon wings,
And on my ear thy demon-chuckle rings,
Over the feast the panting summer brings,
"For me--'tis all for me!"
All seasons and all climes--
In city crowded, and in solitude,
Ye gather your unsatisfying food;
Ev'n through the rosy gates of joy intrude
Thy deep, sepulchral chimes.

I know thee well, though young;
Thrice, ruthlessly, this little circle broke
Hast thou. A brother, sister--then the Oak,
(Ah, hadst thou spared that last and hardest stroke,)
Round which our young hopes clung!
Ye wantonly have crush'd,
By your untimely and avenging frost,
The buds of hope which bid to promise most;
Oh! had ye known the heart-consuming cost,
Could ye, O! Death have hush'd

The music that endears,
And makes this chill'd existence tolerable?
Yet will I not such selfishness--'tis well;
I hear, I hear a happier, holier swell
From out the eternal spheres!
I do defy thee, Death!
Why flee me, like a debtor in arrears?
To weary out the agony of years,
With nothing but the bitter brine of tears,
And scarcer existing breath.

My soul is growing strong,
And somewhat fretful with its house of clay,
And waiting quite impatiently to lay
It off, and soar in light away,
To hymn th' "eternal song."
This is a cowardice
Perhaps--a deep, mean selfishness withal.
That whets our longings in the spirit's thrall
To lay aside these trials, and forestall
The hours of Paradise.

Thou wise, Eternal God!
Oh, let me not offend Thy great design!
Teach thou thy erring mortal to resign,