中

And whitening and brightening, And quivering and shivering,

And hurrying and skurrying,

And thundering and floundering;

Dividing and gliding and sliding,

And falling and brawling and sprawling,
And driving and riving and striving,

And sprinkling and twinkling and wrinkling,
And sounding and bounding and rounding,
And bubbling and troubling and doubling,
And grumbling and rumbling and tumbling,
And clattering and battering and shattering;

Retreating and beating and meeting and sheeting, Delaying and straying and playing and spraying, Advancing and prancing and glancing and dancing,

Recoiling, turmoiling and toiling and boiling, And gleaming and streaming and steaming and beaming,

And rushing and flushing and brushing and gushing,

And flapping and rapping and clapping and slapping,

Wildly he started, for there in the heavens be

fore him

Fluttered and flew the original star-spangled banner.

Two objections are in the way of the acceptance of this anthem by the committee: in the first place, it is not an anthem at all; secondly, it is a gross plagiarism from an old Sclavonic war-song of the primeval ages.

Next we quote from a

NATIONAL ANTHEM.

BY THE HON. EDWARD E-, OF BOSTON.

PONDEROUS projectiles, hurled by heavy hands,
Fell on our Liberty's poor infant head,
Ere she a stadium had well advanced

On the great path that to her greatness led;

Her temple's propylon was shatter-ed;

Yet, thanks to saving Grace and Washington, Her incubus was from her bosom hurled; And, rising like a cloud-dispelling sun, She took the oil with which her hair was curled To grease the "hub" round which revolves the

world.

This fine production is rather heavy for an "anthem," and contains too much of Boston to be considered strictly national. To set such an "anthem" to music would require a Wagner; and even were it populace.

And thumping and plumping and bumping and jumping,

And dashing and flashing and splashing and clashing;

And so never ending, but always descending, Sounds and motions forever and ever are blending, All at once and all o'er, with a mighty uproar, And this way the water comes down at Lodore.

We now come to a

NATIONAL ANTHEM.

BY JOHN GREENLEAF W-.

My native land, thy Puritanic stock
Still finds its roots firm bound in Plymouth Rock;
And all thy sons unite in one grand wish,
To keep the virtues of Preserv-ed Fish.

Preserv-ed Fish, the Deacon stern and true,
Told our New England what her sons should do ;
And, should they swerve from loyalty and right,
Then the whole land were lost indeed in night.

The sectional bias of this "anthem" renders it unsuitable for use in that small margin of the world situated outside of New England. Hence the above must be rejected. Here we have a very curious

NATIONAL ANTHEM.

BY DR. OLIVER WENDELL H.

A DIAGNOSIS of our history proves
Our native land a land its native loves;
Its birth a deed obstetric without peer,
Its growth a source of wonder far and near.

To love it more, behold how foreign shores
Sink into nothingness beside its stores.
Hyde Park at best - though counted ultragrand-
The "Boston Common" of Victoria's land

The committee must not be blamed for rejecting the above after

reading thus far, for such an "anthem" could only be sung by a

THE Sun sinks softly to his evening post,
The sun swells grandly to his morning crown;
Yet not a star our flag of heaven has lost,

And not a sunset stripe with him goes down.

So thrones may fall; and from the dust of those New thrones may rise, to totter like the last; But still our country's nobler planet glows, While the eternal stars of Heaven are fast.

Upon finding that this does not go well to the air of "Yankee Doodle," the committee feel justified in declining it; being furthermore prejudiced against it by a suspicion that the poet has crowded an advertisement of a paper which he edits into the first line. Next we quote from a

BY N. P. W-.

ONE hue of our flag is taken

From the cheeks of my blushing pet, And its stars beat time and sparkle Like the studs on her chemisette.

Its blue is the ocean shadow

That hides in her dreamy eyes,
And it conquers all men, like her,
And still for a Union flies.

Several members of the committee find that this "anthem has too much of the Anacreon spice to suit them. We next peruse a

NATIONAL ANTHEM.

BY THOMAS BAILEY A-.

THE little brown squirrel hops in the coru,
The cricket quaintly sings;
The emerald pigeon nods his head,
And the shad in the river springs;
The dainty sunflower hangs its head
On the shore of the summer sea;
And better far that I were dead,

If Maud did not love me.

I love the squirrel that hops in the corn,
And the cricket that quaintly sings;
And the emerald pigeon that nods his head,
And the shad that gayly springs.
I love the dainty sunflower, too,

And Maud with her snowy breast;
I love them all; but I love - I love -
I love my country best.

This is certainly very beautiful, and sounds somewhat like Tennyson. Though it may be rejected by the conimittee, it can never lose its value as a piece of excellent reading for children. It is calculated to fill the youthful mind with patriotism and natural history, beside touching the youthful heart with an emotion palpitating for all.

We close the list with the following: