than the prophets told
  Who dimly saw and feared thy face,—

  Who didst but half reveal thy will
   And gracious ends to their desire,
   Behind the dawn's advancing fire
  Thy tender day-beam veiling still,—

  To whom the unceasing suns belong,
   And cause is one with consequence,—
   To whose divine, inclusive sense
  The moan is blended with the song,—

  Whose laws, imperfect and unjust,
   Thy just and perfect purpose serve:
   The needle, howsoe'er it swerve,
  Still warranting the sailor's trust,—

  God, lift thy hand and make us free
   To crown the work thou hast designed.
   O, strike away the chains that bind
  Our souls to one idolatry!

  The liberty thy love hath given
   We thank thee for. We thank thee for
   Our great dead fathers' holy war
  Wherein our manacles were riven.

  We thank thee for the stronger stroke
   Ourselves delivered and incurred
   When—thine incitement half unheard—
  The chains we riveted we broke.

  We thank thee that beyond the sea
    The people, growing ever wise,
    Turn to the west their serious eyes
  And dumbly strive to be as we.

  As when the sun's returning flame
    Upon the Nileside statue shone,
    And struck from the enchanted stone
  The music of a mighty fame,

  Let Man salute the rising day
    Of Liberty, but not adore.
    'Tis Opportunity—no more—
  A useful, not a sacred, ray.

  It bringeth good, it bringeth ill,
    As he possessing shall elect.
    He maketh it of none effect
  Who walketh not within thy will.

  Give thou or more or less, as we
    Shall serve the right or serve the wrong.
    Confirm our freedom but so long
  As we are worthy to be free.

  But when (O, distant be the time!)
    Majorities in passion draw
    Insurgent swords to murder Law,
  And all the land is red with crime;

  Or—nearer menace!—when the band
    Of feeble spirits cringe and plead
    To the gigantic strength of Greed,
  And fawn upon his iron hand;—

  Nay, when the steps to state are worn
    In hollows by the feet of thieves,
    And Mammon sits among the sheaves
  And chuckles while the reapers mourn;

  Then stay thy miracle!—replace
    The broken throne, repair the chain,
    Restore the interrupted reign
  And veil again thy patient face.

  Lo! here upon the world's extreme
    We stand with lifted arms and dare
    By thine eternal name to swear
  Our country, which so fair we deem—

  Upon whose hills, a bannered throng,
    The spirits of the sun display
    Their flashing lances day by day
  And hear the sea's pacific song—

  Shall be so ruled in right and grace
    That men shall say: "O, drive afield
    The lawless eagle from the shield,
  And call an angel to the place!"

RELIGION.

  Hassan Bedreddin, clad in rags, ill-shod,
  Sought the great temple of the living God.
    The worshippers arose and drove him forth,
  And one in power beat him with a rod.

  "Allah," he cried, "thou seest what I got;
  Thy servants bar me from the sacred spot."
    "Be comforted," the Holy One replied;
  "It is the only place where I am not."

A MORNING FANCY.

  I drifted (or I seemed to) in a boat
    Upon the surface of a shoreless sea
  Whereon no ship nor anything did float,
    Save only the frail bark supporting me;
    And that—it was so shadowy—seemed to be
  Almost from out the very vapors wrought
    Of the great ocean underneath its keel;
  And all that blue profound appeared as naught
    But thicker sky, translucent to reveal,
  Miles down, whatever through its spaces glided,
  Or at the bottom traveled or abided.

  Great cities there I saw—of rich and poor,
    The palace and the hovel; mountains, vales,
  Forest and field, the desert and the moor,
    Tombs of the good and wise who'd lived in jails,
    And seas of denser fluid, white with sails
  Pushed at by currents moving here and there
    And sensible to sight above the flat
  Of that opaquer deep. Ah, strange and fair
    The nether world that I was gazing at
  With beating heart from that exalted level,
  And—lest I founder—trembling like the devil!

  The cities all were populous: men swarmed
    In public places—chattered, laughed and wept;
  And savages their shining bodies warmed
    At fires in primal woods. The wild beast leapt
    Upon its prey and slew it as it slept.
  Armies went forth to battle on the plain
    So far, far down in that unfathomed deep
  The living seemed as silent as the slain,
    Nor even the widows could be heard to weep.
  One might have thought their shaking was but laughter;
  And, truly, most were married shortly after.

  Above the wreckage of that silent fray
    Strange fishes swam in circles, round and round—
  Black, double-finned; and once a little way
    A bubble rose and burst without a sound
    And a man tumbled out upon the ground.
  Lord! 'twas an eerie thing to drift apace
    On that pellucid sea, beneath black skies
  And o'er the heads of an undrowning race;
    And when I woke I said—to her surprise
  Who came with chocolate, for me to drink it:
  "The atmosphere is deeper than you think it."

VISIONS OF SIN.

KRASLAJORSK, SIBERIA, March 29.

  "My eyes are better, and I shall travel slowly toward home."
    DANENHOWER.

  From the regions of the Night,
  Coming with recovered sight—
  From the spell of darkness free,
  What will Danenhower see?

  He will see when he arrives,
  Doctors taking human lives.
  He will see a learned judge
  Whose decision will not budge
  Till both litigants are fleeced
  And his palm is duly greased.
  Lawyers he will see who fight
  Day by day and night by night;
  Never both upon a side,
  Though their fees they still divide.
  Preachers he will see who teach
  That it is divine to preach—
  That they fan a sacred fire
  And are worthy of their hire.
  He will see a trusted wife

  (Pride of some good husband's life)
  Enter at a certain door
  And—but he will see no more.
  He will see Good Templars reel—
  See a prosecutor steal,
  And a father beat his child.
  He'll