e with him from Germany. The Germans had been singing it
for years (and are singing it now, more or less) to the words, "Heil Dir
Im Siegel Kranz," and the Swiss to "Rufst Du mein Vaterland." It was
sung in Sweden, also, and till 1833 it was in public use in Russia
commonly enough to give it a national character. Von Weber introduced it
in his "Jubel" overture, and Beethoven, in 1814, copied it in C Major
and wrote piano variations on it. It has been ascribed to Henry Purcell
(1696), to Lulli, a French composer (1670), to Dr. John Bull (1619), and
to Thomas Ravenscroft and an old Scotch carol as old as 1609. One might
fancy that the biography of the famous air resembled Melchizedek's.

The truth appears to be that certain bars of music which might easily
happen to be similar, or even identical, when plain-song was the common
style, were produced at different times and places, and one man finally
harmonized the wandering strains into a complete tune. It is now
generally conceded that the man was Henry Carey, a popular English
composer and dramatist of the first half of the 18th century, who sang
the melody as it now is, in 1740, at a public dinner given in honor of
Admiral Vernon after his capture of Porto Bello (Brazil). This antedates
any authenticated use of the tune _ipsissima forma_ in England or
continental Europe.

The American history of it simply is that Woodbridge gave it to Mason
and Mason gave it to Smith--and Smith gave it "My Country 'Tis of Thee."

"BY THE RUDE BRIDGE."

This genuinely American poem, written by Ralph Waldo Emerson and called
usually the "Concord Hymn," was prepared for the dedication of the
Battle-monument in Concord, April 19, 1836, and sung there to the tune
of "Old Hundred." Apparently no change has been made in the original
except of a single word in the first line.

By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
Their flag to April's breeze unfurled,
Here once the embattled farmers stood,
And fired the shot heard round the world.

The foe long since in silence slept;
Alike the conqueror silent sleeps;
And Time the ruined bridge has swept
Down the dark stream which seaward creeps.

On this green bank, by this soft stream,
We set today a votive stone;
That memory may their deed redeem,
When, like our sires, our sons are gone.

Spirit, that made those heroes dare
To die, and leave their children free,
Bid