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Then bring your bright garlands, your treasures display, To gladden the meeting of friendship to-day.

How oft have we crowded this table around,
And pledged the high cup in festivity crowned!
To-day the same board shall its treasures display,
The same cup of feeling be mingled to-day.

And the taste of the wine, from this goblet of love,
Shall cling to our lips, and shall never remove;
Our cheeks the warm glow shall forever retain,
And bring back the thought of this meeting again.

Then pledge Alma-Mater our joy, and our pride!
We have drunk at her bosom, we've walked at her side:
Our warmest affections we ever will pay,

And live to her honor:

we pledge it to-day.



There is a very animated air and chorus, which 1 have heard sung with great delight, adapted to a triumphant song on the overthrow of the Egyptians —

"Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea!

Jehovah hath triumphed! his people are free!"

The following lines, to the same tune, are more suitable to Christian worship. They are particularly adapted to EASTER DAY.

LIFT your loud voices in triumph on high,
For Jesus hath risen, and man cannot die!

Vain were the terrors that gathered around him,
And short the dominion of death and the grave;
He burst from the fetters of darkness that bound him,
Resplendent in glory, to live and to save.

Loud was the chorus of angels on high

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"The Savior hath risen, and man shall not die!"

Glory to God, in full anthems of joy!

The being he gave us death cannot destroy!

Sad were the life we must part with to-morrow,

If tears were our birthright, and death were our end; But Jesus hath cheered the dark valley of sorrow,

And bade us, immortal, to heaven ascend.

Lift, then, your voices in triumph on high,
For Jesus hath risen, and man shall not die!






ONCE more we meet in peace; the storm has passed,
And cheerful suns ascend our skies at last;
The heavy cloud has rolled its gloom away,
And all the prospect brightens into day.
How glad the promise to our country given !
Lo, Peace descends, in angel form, from heaven,
And the dark train of misery and despair
Vanish, like misty forms of morning air.
Where late anxiety and gloom were seen
To cloud the brow, and agitate the mien,—
Where our sad fates, as slowly they unrolled,
Appalled alike the timid and the bold,
Returning hope has marked the scene with joy,
And mirth and gladness every heart employ;
Joy on the tongue, and rapture in the eye,
The eager shout mounts upward to the sky!

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Hark! the glad bell, the deep-mouthed cannon, sounds;
The city shakes, and every hill resounds.

Yes, we may well rejoice, and well repair,
With praise, to Him who heard our anxious prayer.
Let the loud anthem fill, with joyful strain,

These walls, that heard our burdened souls complain.

Glory to God be given! the God of peace,

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Who bids our fears subside, our troubles cease.
He sent confusion and the nation mourned;

He smiled the star of happiness returned.
The cloud that veiled us was our Father's hand;
The beams that cheer us shine at his command.
Then, as the fabled harp its warblings woke,
When on its strings the ray of morning broke,
So let our hearts respond the touch of Heaven;
So let our earliest hours to praise be given.

Yes, we have cause of joy! O, need I say
How great the boon we celebrate to-day?
Need I the sufferings of the past recall?
Need I-O would I could! recount them all?
Look first abroad scan Europe's history o'er;
There the wild flood has wasted every shore.
For twice ten years the threatening tumult spread,
While Nature languished, and her beauty fled.
War drove his iron car from land to land,
And scattered rage and ruin from his hand;
Pale Europe trembled with the cannon's roar,
And helpless anguish wailed on every shore.
Destroying armies, here, triumphant passed;
There, houseless wanderers shuddered in the blast;
Here, wasted fields were burdened with the slain;
There, prostrate cities smoked upon the plain.

"When, when," we cried, "will ruin's work be done?
When shall the world behold a quiet sun?
O, when shall winds untainted move the tree,
And bloodless rivers mingle with the sea?
When shall the glutted vulture quit the plain,
And the dove wave her peaceful wings again?"
But long in vain we wished, in vain we sought;
Still thousands mourned for still th' ambitious fought.
Enough," we cried, "have tears and treasures flowed;
Enough have earth and ocean drunk of blood."
But still the breeze confusion's accents bore,
And every wave came crimsoned to the shore;
Now the loud shouts of victory rent the air,
And now were heard the moanings of despair.


But Heaven at length, to save a sinking world,
The restless conqueror from his chariot hurled;
Doomed, as he trod the northern plain, to know
"A horrid climate," and a horrid foe.

How short the reign! how sudden was the fall!
Europe once scarce sufficed — Elba is now his all!
Th' astonished nations, roused from long dismay,
Gazed with dread wonder as he passed away;
With doubting eyes surveyed the scene a while, .
And smiled and wondered they were free to smile;
And now look back as on a meteor's flight,

The transient terror of a troubled night.

The tyrant fell his baleful influence o'er,
The morn of quiet dawned on Europe's shore;
Contending nations rested from their arms,
And wives and mothers hushed their wild alarms.
No more their cities trembled to the gun;
No more the battle-cloud eclipsed the sun;

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