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ton, and Saratoga. Veterans of half a century! when ir your youthful days, you put everything at hazard in your country's cause, good as that cause was, and sanguine as youth is, still your fondest hopes did not stretch onward to an hour like this! At a period to which you could not reasonably have expected to arrive; at a moment of national prosperity, such as you could never have foreseen; you are now met here, to enjoy the fellowship of old soldiers, and to receive the overflowings of a universal gratitude.

6. But your agitated countenances, and your heaving breasts, inform me that even this is not an unmixed joy. I perceive that a tumult of contending feelings rushes upon you. The images of the dead, as well as the persons of the living, throng to your embraces. The scene overwhelms you, and I turn from it. May the Father of all mercies smile upon your declining years, and bless them! And when you shall here have exchanged your embraces, when you shall once more have pressed the hands which have been so often extended to give succor in adversity, or grasped in the exultation of victory, then look abroad into this lovely land, which your young valor defended, and mark the happiness with which it is filled; yea, look abroad into the whole earth, and see what a name you have contributed to give your country, and what a praise you have added to freedom, and then rejoice in the sympathy and gratitude which beam upon your last days from the improved condition of mar.kind.

THE AFRICAN CHIEF.-Bryant. Chain'd in the market-place he stood, A man of giant frame,

Amid the gathering multitude

That shrunk to hear his name-
All stern of look and strong of limb
His dark eye on the ground:-
And silently they gazed on him,
As on a lion bound.

2..

Vainly, but well, that chief had fought,
He was a captive now,

Yet pride, that fortune humbles not,
Was written on his brow.

The scars his dark broad bosom wore,
Show'd warrior true and brave;
A prince among his tribe before,

He could not be a slave.

3.

Then to his conqueror he spake

"My brother is a king;

Undo this necklace from my neck,

And take this bracelet ring,

And send me where my brother reigns,

And I will fill thy hands

With store of ivory from the plains,

And gold-dust from the sands."

4.

"Not for thy ivory nor thy gold

Will I unbind thy chain;

That bloody hand shall never hold
The battle spear again.

A price thy nation never gave,
Shall yet be paid for thee;

For thou shalt be the Christian's slave,
In lands beyond the sea."

5.

Then wept the warrior chief, and bade
To shred his locks away;

And, one by one, each heavy braid
Before the victor lay.

Thick were the platted locks, and long

And deftly hidden there

Shone many a wedge of gold among
The dark and crisped hair.

6.

"Look, feast thy greedy eye with gold
Long kept for sorest need;
Take it thou askest sums untold,
And say that I am freed.
Take it-my wife, the long, long day,
Weeps by the cocoa tree,

And my young children leave their play.
And ask in vain for me."

7.

"I take thy gold-but I have made
Thy fetters fast and strong,

And ween that by the cocoa shade
Thy wife will wait thee long."
Strong was the agony that shook
The captive's frame to hear,
And the proud meaning of his look
Was changed to mortal fear.

8.

His heart was broken-crazed his brain:
At once his eye grew wild;

He struggled fiercely with his chain,
Whisper'd, and wept, and smiled;
Yet wore not long those fatal bands,
And once, at shut of day,

They drew him forth upon the sands,
The foul hyena's prey.

THE DEATH OF ALIATAR.-Bryant. 'Tis not with gilded sabres

That gleam in baldricks blue,
Nor nodding plumes in caps of Fez
Of gay and gaudy hue-
But habited in mourning weeds,
Come marching from afar,
By four and four, the valiant men
Who fought with Aliatar.
All mournfully and slowly

The afflicted warriors come,
To the deep wail of the trumpet,
And beat of muffled drum.

2.

The banner of the Phenix,

The flag that loved the sky

That scarce the wind dared wanton with It flew so proud and high

Now leaves its place in battle-field,

And sweeps the ground i≥ grief; The bearer drags its glorious folds Behind the fallen chief,

As mournfully and slowly

The afflicted warriors come, To the deep wail of the trumpet,

And beat of muffled drum.

3.

Brave Aliatar led forward

A hundred Moors to go

To where his brother held Motril
Against the leaguering foe.
On horseback went the gallant Moor.
That gallant band to lead;

And now his bier is at the gate,

From whence he prick'd his steed. While mournfully and slowly

The afflicted warriors come,
To the deep wail of the trumpet,
And beat of muffled drum.

4.

The knights of the Grand Master

In crowded ambush lay;

They rush'd upon him where the reeds
Were thick beside the way;

They smote the valiant Aliatar,
They smote him till he died,
And broken, but not beaten, were
The brave ones by his side.
Now mournfully and slowly

The afflicted warriors come,

To the deep wail of the trumpet,
And beat of muffled drum.

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