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expired in the moment of victory, exclaiming, "To die for Liberty is a pleasure, not a pain!" Here are some of the lines:

At midnight, in his guarded tent,

The Turk was dreaming of the hour
When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent,
Should tremble at his power.



They fought-like brave men, long and well:
They piled that ground with Moslem slain;
They conquered-but Bozzaris fell,
Bleeding at every vein.

His few surviving comrades saw

His smile-when rang their proud hurrah,
And the red field was won;

Then saw in death his eyelids close

Calmly, as to a night's repose,

Like flowers at set of sun.



Bozzaris with the storied brave
Greece nurtured in her glory's time,
Rest thee-there is no prouder grave,

Even in her own proud clime.




For thou art Freedom's now, and Fame's;
One of the few, the immortal names
That were not born to die!

HALLECK'S fine Elegy on Burns abounds with impassioned and glowing beauties.

We extract a few stanzas:

His is that language of the heart,

In which the answering heart would speak,
Thought, word, that bids the warm tear start,
Or the smile light the cheek;

And his that music, to whose tone

The common pulse of man keeps time, In cot or castle's mirth or moan,

In cold or sunny clime.



What sweet tears dim the eyes unshed, What wild vows falter on the tongue, When "Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled," Or "Auld Lang Syne," is sung?


Pure hopes, that lift the soul above,

Come with his Cotter's Hymn of praise; And dreams of youth, and truth, and love, With Logan's banks and braes.

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Pinkney, Read, Cutter,

Prentice, Cist, Gallagher, Perkins, Byron,

Crabbe, Scott, Hogg, Lamb, White, Montgomery,

Ccleridge, Poe, Hemans, Southey, Moore,

Bryant, Hunt, Welby, Nichois,


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THAT the stupendous cataract of Niagara, with its picturesque associations, should have inspired the homage of many a gifted votary of the muse, need not provoke surprise. Yet any attempt

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