chral, unimpassioned voice; all have been developed only, not changed, even to the intense bitterness of his frigid irony. The piercing coldness of his sarcasm was, indeed, peculiar to him; it seemed to be an temanation from the spirit of the icy ocean. Nothing could be at once so novel and so powerful; it was frozen mercury, becoming as caustic as red hot iron.

CIV. THE AMERICAN FLAG.
FROM DRAKE.

1. WHEN Freedom, from her mountain hight,
+Unfurl'd her standard to the air,

She tore the azure robe of night,
And set the stars of glory there.
She mingled with its gorgeous dyes,
The milky baldrick of the skies,
And striped its pure, celestial white,
With streakings of the morning light;
Then, from his mansion in the sun,
She call'd her eagle-bearer down,
And gave into his mighty hand
The symbol of her chosen land

2. Majestic monarch of the cloud!

Who rear 'st aloft thy regal form,
To hear the tempest trumping loud,
And see the lightning-lances driven,

When strides the warrior of the storm,
And rolls the thunder-drum of heaven;
Child of the sun! to thee 't is given
To guard the banner of the free,
To hover in the sulphur smoke,
To ward away the battle stroke,
And bid its blendings shine afar,
Like rainbows in the cloud of war,
The harbinger of victory.

3. Flag of the brave! thy folds shall fly
The sign of hope and triumph high.
When speaks the signal-trumpet tone,
And the long line comes gleaming on,

Ere yet the life-blood, warm and wet,
Has dimm'd the glistening bayonet,
Each soldier's eye shall brightly turn
To where thy +meteor glories burn,
And as his springing steps advance
Catch war and vengeance from the glance;
And when the cannon's mouthings loud,
Heave, in wild wreaths, the battle shroud,
And gory sabers rise and fall,

Like shoots of flame on midnight's pall,
There shall thy victor glances glow,
And +cowering foes shall sink below
Each gallant arm, that strikes beneath
That awful messenger of death.

4. Flag of the seas! on ocean's wave

Thy stars shall glitter o'er the brave.
When death, careering on the gale,
Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail,
And frighted waves rush wildly back,
Before the broadside's reeling rack,
The dying wanderer of the sea
Shall look at once to heaven and thee,
And smile to see thy splendors fly
In triumph o'er his closing eye.

5. Flag of the free heart's only home!
By angel hands to valor given,
Thy stars have lit the +welkin +dome,
And all thy hues were born in heaven.
Forever float that standard sheet!

Where breathes the foe but falls before us,
With Freedom's soil beneath our feet,

And Freedom's banner waving o'er us.

JAMES G. PERCIVAL, a native of Connecticut, was a poet of distinction. He was also distinguished as a Geologist, Botanist, and Philologist. He was remarkable for his extreme modesty and reserve, as well as for his learning and poetic talent. He has recently died.

1. BIRD of the broad and sweeping wing,

Thy home is high in heaven,

Where the wide storms their banners fling,

And the tempest-clouds are driven;
Thy throne is on the mountain-top;

Thy fields, the boundless air;
And hoary peaks, that proudly prop
The skies, thy dwellings are.

2. Thou art perch'd aloft, on the beetling crag,
And the waves are white below,

And on, with a haste that can not lag,
They rush in an endless flow;

Again thou hast plumed thy wing for flight,
To lands beyond the sea,

And away, like a spirit wreath'd in light,
Thou hurriest, wild and free.

3. Lord of the boundless realm of air!
In thy +imperial name,

The hearts of the bold and ardent dare
The dangerous path of fame.

Beneath the shade of thy golden wings,
The Roman legions bore,

From the river of Egypt's cloudy springs,
Their pride to the polar shore.*

4. For thee they fought, for thee they fell,
And their oath on thee was laid;
To thee the clarions rais'd their swell,
And the dying warrior pray'd.

Thou wert, through an age of death and fears,
The image of pride and power,
Till the gather'd rage of a thousand years,
Burst forth in one awful hour.†

5 And then, a deluge of wrath it came,

And the nations shook with dread;

And it swept the earth, till its fields were flame,

And piled with the mingled dead.

Kings were rolled in the wasteful flood,

With the low and crouching slave;

And together lay in a shroud of blood,
The coward and the brave.

*The Roman standard was the image of an eagle. The soldiers swore by it, and the loss of it was considered a disgrace.

† Alluding to the destruction of Rome by the northern barbarians.

6. And where was then thy fearless flight?
"O'er the dark and mysterious sea,
To the land that caught the setting light,
The cradle of Liberty.

There, on the silent and lonely shore,
For ages I watch'd alone,

And the world in its darkness, ask'd no more
Where the glorious bird had flown.

7. "But then, came a bold and hardy few,
And they breasted the unknown wave;
I saw from far the wandering crew,
And I knew they were high and brave.
I wheel'd around the welcome bark,
As it sought the desolate shore,
And up to heaven, like a joyous lark,
My quivering +pinions bore.

8 "And now, that bold and hardy few
Are a nation wide and strong;

And danger and doubt I have led them through,
And they worship me in song;

And over their bright and +glancing arms,
On field, and lake, and sea,

With an eye that fires, and a spell that charms,
I guide them to victory !”

of the

1. IN the winter of 1824, Lieutenant GUnited States navy, with his beautiful wife and infant child, tembarked in a packet at Norfolk, bound to South Carolina. For the first day and night after their departure, the wind continued fair, and the weather clear; but, on the evening of the second day, a severe gale sprung up, and, toward midnight, the captain, judging himself much further from the land than he really was, and dreading the Gulf Stream, hauled in for the coast; but with the intention, it is presumed, of lying to when he supposed himself clear of the Gulf. Lieut. G. did not approve of the captain's determination, and the result proved that his fears were well founded; for toward morning the vessel grounded.

2. Vain would it be, to attempt a description of the horror which was depicted in every countenance, when the awful shock, occasioned by the striking of the vessel's bottom, was first experienced. The terror of such a situation can be known only to those, who have themselves been shipwrecked. No others can have a tolerable idea of what passed in the minds of the wretched crew, as they gazed with vacant horror on the thundering elements, and felt, that their frail bark must soon, perhaps the next thump, be dashed to pieces, and they left at the mercy of the billows, with not even a plank between them and eternity. First, comes the thumping of the vessel; next the dashing of the surge over her sides; then, the careening of the vessel on her beam ends, as the waves, for an instant, recede; and lastly, the crashing of the spars and timbers, at each returning wave; the whole forming a scene of confusion and horror which no language can describe.

3. But awful as is the shipwrecked sailor's prospect, what are his feelings compared to the agony of a fond husband and father, who clasps in a last embrace his little world, his beloved wife and child! The land was in sight, but to approach it was scarcely less dangerous, than to remain in the raging sea around them. Lieut. G. was a seaman, and a brave one; accustomed to danger, and quick in seizing upon every means of rescuing the unfortunate. But now, who were the unfortunate, that called on him for rescue? Who were they, whose screams were heard louder than the roaring elements, imploring that aid which no human power could afford them? His wife and child! O! heart-rending agony.

4. But why attempt to describe what few can imagine? In a word, the only boat which could be got, was manned by two gallant tars. Mrs. G., and her child, and its nurse were lifted into it; it was the thought of desperation! The freight was already too much. Mr. G. saw this, and knew that the addition of himself would diminish the chances of the boat's reaching the shore in safety; and horrible as was the alternative, he himself gave the order;"Push off, and make for the land, my brave lads!"—the last words that ever passed his lips! The order was obeyed; but ere the little boat had proceeded fifty yards, (about half the