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The rich and poor, on land and sea, -
Where will the mighty millions be

A hundred years to come?

We all within our graves shall sleep,

A hundred years to come;
No living soul for us will weep,

A hundred years to come.
But other men our lands shall till,
And others, then, our streets will fill,
While other birds will sing as gay,
As bright the sunshine as to-day,
A hundred years to come.

WILLIAM GOLDSMITI Brown.

The Song of Steam.

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Harness me down with your iron bands,

Be sure of your curb and rein,
For I scorn the strength of your puny hands

As the tempest scorns a chain,
How I laughed as I lay concealed from sight,

For many a countless hour,
At the childish boast of human might,

And the pride of human power.

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A navy upon the

When I saw an army upon the land,

seas, Creeping along, a snail-like band,

Or waiting the wayward breeze, When I marked the peasant faintly reel

With the toil which he daily bore, As he feebly turned the tardy wheel,

Or tugged at the weary oar,

When I measured the panting courser's speed,

The flight of the carrier dove,

THE SONG OF STEAM.

205

As they bore the law a king decreed,

Or the lines of impatient love,
I could but think how the world would feel,

As these were outstripped afar,
When I should be bound to the rushing keel,

Or chained to the flying car.

Ha, ha, ha! They found me at last,

They invited me forth at length,
And I rushed to my throne with a thunder blast,

And laughed in my iron strength!
Oh! then ye saw a wondrous change

On the earth and the ocean wide,
Where now my fiery armies range,

Nor wait for wind or tide.

The ocean pales where'er I sweep,

To hear my strength rejoice,
And monsters of the briny deep

Cower trembling at my voice.
I carry the wealth and the lord of earth,

The thoughts of his godlike mind;
The wind lags after my going forth,

The lightning is left behind.

In the darksome depths of the fathomless mine,

My tireless arm doth play ;
Where the rocks never saw the sun decline,

Or the dawn of a glorious day;
I bring earth's glittering jewels up

From the hidden caves below,
And I make the fountain's granite cup

With a crystal gush o'erflow.

I blow the bellows, I forge the steel,

In all the shops of trade;
I hammer the ore and turn the wheel

Where my arms of strength are made.

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I manage the furnace, the mill, the mint,

I carry, I spin, I weave;
And all my doings I put into print

On every Saturday eve.

I 've no muscle to weary, no brains to decay,

No bones to be "laid on the shelf,"
And soon I intend you may “go and play,"

While I manage the world myself.
But harness me down with your iron bands,

Be sure of your curb and rein,
For I scorn the strength of your puny hands
As the tempest scorns a chain.

GEORGE W. CUTTER.

Tuhy thus Longing ?

Why thus longing, thus forever sighing,

For the far-off, unattained and dim, While the beautiful, all round thee lying,

Offers up its low, perpetual hymn?

Wouldst thou listen to its gentle teaching,

All thy restless yearnings it would still; Leaf and flower and laden bee are preaching

Thine own sphere, though humble, first to fill.

Poor indeed thou must be, if around thee

Thou no ray of light and joy canst throwIf no silken cord of love hath bound thee

To some little world through weal and woe;

If no dear eyes thy fond love can brighten

No fond voices answer to thine own; If no brother's sorrow thou canst lighten,

By daily sympathy and gentle tone.

NOTHING TO WEAR.

207

Not by deeds that win the crowd's applauses,

Not by works that give thee world-renown, Not by martyrdom or vaunted crosses,

Canst thou win and wear the immortal crown.

Daily struggling, though unloved and lonely,

Every day a rich reward will give; Thou wilt find, by hearty striving only,

And truly loving, thou canst truly live.

Dost thou revel in the rosy morning,

When all nature hails the lord of light, And his smile, the mountain-tops adorning,

Robes yon fragrant fields in radiance bright?

Other hands may grasp the field and forest,

Proud proprietors in pomp may shine; But with fervent love if thou adorest,

Thou art wealthier-all the world is thine.

Yet if through earth's wide domains thou rovest,

Sighing that they are not thine alone,
Not those fair fields, but thyself thou lovest,

And their beauty and thy wealth are gone.

Nature wears the color of the spirit;

Sweetly to her worshiper she sings;
All the glow, the grace she doth inherit,
Round her trusting child she fondly flings.

HARRIET WINSLOW SEWALL.

Nothing to dear.

Miss FLORA M'FLIMSEY, of Madison Square,
Has made three separate journeys to Paris,
And her father assures me, each time she was there,
That she and her friend Mrs. Harris

(Not the lady whose name is so famous in history,
But plain Mrs. H., without romance or mystery)
Spent six consecutive weeks, without stopping,
In one continuous round of shopping, -
Shopping alone, and shopping together,
At all honrs of the day, and in all sorts of weather,
For all manner of things that a woman can put
On the crown of her head, or the soul of her foot,
Or wrap round her shoulders, or fit round her waist,
Or that can be sewed on, or pinned on, or laced,
Or tied with a string, or stitched with a bow,
In front or behind, above or below;
For bonnets, mantillas, capes, collars, and shawls;
Dresses for breakfast, and dinners, and balls;
Dresses to sit in, and stand in, and walk in;
Dresses to dance in, and flirt in, and talk in;
Dresses in which to do nothing at all;
Dresses for Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall;-
All of them different in color and shape,
Silk, muslin, and lace, velvet, satin, and crape,
Brocade and broadcloth, and other material,
Quite as expensive and much more ethereal;
In short, for all things that could ever be thought of,
Or milliner, modiste, or tradesman be bought of,

From ten-thousand-franc robes to twenty-sous frills;
In all quarters of Paris, and to every store,
While M'Flimsey in vain stormed, scolded, and swore,

They footed the streets, and he footed the bills!

The last trip, their goods shipped by the steamer Argo,
Formed, M'Flimsey declares, the bulk of her cargo,
Not to mention a quantity kept from the rest,
Sufficient to fill the largest sized chest,
Which did not appear on the ship's manifest,
But for which the ladies themselves manifested
Such particular interest, that they invested
Their own proper persons in layers and rows

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