Au Revoir
To My Absent Daughter
Song of the Sewing Machine
My Lady Waits For Me
Music
The Millionaire
In Memory of Charles H. Sandford
Seventy-Six
A Parody
The Stag-Hunt
Deliver Us From Evil
Union
We Part For Ever
Come to Me in Cherry Time
On the Death of Mrs. Jessie Willis
Thank God for Pleasant Weather
The Master's Song
The Missing Ship
Jeannie Marsh
Lucy
Epitaph
In Memory of John W. Francis, Jr
Nature's Noblemen
A Wall-Street Lyric
King Cotton
Words Adapted to a Spanish Melody
Love in Exile
To the Evening Star
Welcome Home
The Sycamore Shade
Up the Hudson
Only Thine
Epigram on Reading Grim's Attack upon Clinton
 On Hearing that Morse Did Not Invent the Telegraph

Address for the Benefit of William Dunlop
Address for the Benefit of J. Sheridan Knowles
Address for the Benefit of Henry Placide

The Maid of Saxony: Or, Who's the Traitor?
 Ho! Hans!—Why, Hans!
 Rejoice! Rejoice! We're Safe and Sound
 The Life For Me is a Soldier's Life
 Confusion! Again Rejected!
 When I behold that Lowering Brow
 'Tis a Soldier's Rigid Duty
 The Spring-Time of Love is Both Happy and Gay
 From My Fate There's No Retreating
 Lads and Lasses Trip Away
 All Hail the King!
 Home
 Sky, Stream, Moorland, and Mountain
 Dared These Lips My Sad Story Impart
 Fiery Mars, Thy Votary Hear
 Ah! Love is not a Garden-Flower
 The King, The Princes of the Court
 Victoria! Victoria!
 This Gloomy Cell is my Abode at Last
 Hark! 'Tis the Deep-Toned Midnight Bell
 Once, Mild and Gentle was my Heart
 The Gentle Bird on Yonder Spray
 That Law's the Perfection of Reason
 With Mercy Let Justice
 What Outrage More?—At Whose Command
 The Javelin From an Unseen Hand
 Rejoice! Our Loyal Hearts We Bring
 Our Hearts are Bounding with Delight

Notes
 The Deserted Bride
 The Croton Ode
 Woodman, Spare That Tree
 The Chieftain's Daughter
 Song of Marion's Men
 Janet McRea
 The Dog-Star Rages
 The Prairie on Fire
 The Sweep's Carol
 The Fallen Brave of Mexico
 The Champions of Liberty
 The Rock of the Pilgrims
 The Soldier's Welcome Home
 The Origin of Yankee Doodle
 New-York in 1826
 The Maid of Saxony

Memoir of George P. Morris.

By Horace Binney Wallace.

Bless thou thy lot; thy simple strains have led
 The high-born muse to be the poor man's guest,
And wafted on the wings of song, have sped
 Their way to many a rude, unlettered breast.

— Beranger.

Morris has hung the most beautiful thoughts in the world upon hinges of [illegible]; and his songs are destined to roll over bright lips enough to form a [sonnet? illegible]. His sentiments are simple, honest, truthful, and familiar; his language is pure and eminently musical, and he is prodigally full of the poetry of every-day living.

— Willis.

The distinction with which the name of General Morris is now associated in a permanent connection with what is least factitious or fugitive in American Art, is admitted and known; but the class of young men of letters in this country, at present, can hardly appreciate the extent to which they, and the profession to which they belong, are indebted to his animated exertions, his varied talents, his admirable resources of temper, during a period of twenty years, and at a time when the character of American literature, both at home and abroad was yet to be formed. The first great service which the literary taste of this country received, was rendered by Dennie; a remarkable man; qualified by nature and attainments to be a leader in new circumstances; fit to take part in the formation of a national literature; as a vindicator of independence in thought, able to establish freedom without disturbing the obligations of law; as a conservative in taste, skilful to keep the tone of the great models with which his studies were familiar, without copying their style; by both capacities successful in developing the one, unchangeable spirit of Art, under a new form and with new effects. In this office of field-marshal of our native forces, General Morris succeeded him under increased advantages, in some respect with higher powers, in a different, and certainly a vastly more extended sphere of influence. The manifold and lasting benefits which, as editor of "The Mirror," General Morris conferred on art and artists of every kind, by his tact, his liberality, the superiority of his judgement, and the vigor of his abilities; by the perseverance and address with which he disciplined a corps of youthful writers, in the presence of a constant and heavy fire from the batteries of foreign criticism; by the rare combination, so valuable in dealing with the numerous aspirants in authorship with whom his position brought him in contact; of a quick, true eye to discern in the modesty of some nameless manuscript the future promises of a power hardly yet conscious of itself; a discretion to guide by sound advice, and a generosity to aid with the most important kind of assistance; the firm and open temper which his example tended to inspire into the relations of literary men with one another throughout the land; and more than all, perhaps, by the harmony and union, of such inappreciable value, especially in the beginning of national effort, between the several sister arts of writing, music, painting, and dramatic exhibition, which the singular variety and discursiveness of his intellectual sympathies led him constantly to maintain and vindicate; these, in the multiplicity of their operation, and the full power of their joint effect, can be perfectly understood only by those who possessed a contemporaneous knowledge of the circumstances, and who, remembering the state of things at the commencement of the period alluded to, and observing what existed at the end of it, are able to look back over the whole interval, and see to what influences and what persons the extraordinary change which has taken place, is to be referred. If, at this moment, the literary genius of America, renewed in youth, and quivering lie the eagle's wings with excess of vigor, seems about to make a new flight, from a higher vantage-ground, into loftier depths of airy distance, the capacity to take that flight must, to a great degree, be ascribed to those two persons whom we have named; without whose services the brighter era which appears now to be dawning, might yet be distant and doubtful.

Besides these particulars of past effort, which ought to make his countrymen love the reputation of the subject of this notice, we regret that our limits forbid us to speak at large of those more intimate qualities of personal value, which, in our judgment, form the genuine lustre of one who, admirable for other attainments, is to be imitated in these.

To us it is an instinctive feeling that a wrong is done to the proper grandeur of our complex nature—that a violence is offered to the higher consciousness of our immortal being—whenever an intellectual quality is extolled tot he neglect of a moral one. Moral excellence is the most real genius; and a temper to cope and calmly baffle the multitudinous assaults of the spiritual enmity of active life, is a talent which outshines all praise of mental endowments. Unhappily, the biographer of literary creators affords few occasions in which a feeling of this kind can be indulged and gratified: