"Unaffrighted by the silence round them, Undistracted by the sights they see, These demand not that the things without them Yield them love, amusement, sympathy. "And with joy the stars perform their shining, "Bounded by themselves, and unregardful O, air born voice! long since, severely clear, THE ARSENAL AT SPRINGFIELD. BY HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. Mr. Longfellow and his second wife, during their honeymoon, visited the United States arsenal at Springfield, Mass., about half a century ago. The figure of speech in which the poet speaks of the burnished arms rising like a huge organ was suggested by Mrs. Longfellow. The poem was inspired by Charles Sumner's oration, "The True Grandeur of Nations," which was an argument for peace and against war. This is the Arsenal. From floor to ceiling, Ah, what a sound will rise, how wild and dreary, Will mingle with their awful symphonies! I hear even now the infinite fierce chorus, On helm and harness rings the Saxon hammer, O'er distant deserts sounds the Tartar gong. I hear the Florentine, who from his palace And Aztec priests upon their teocallis Beat the wild war drums made of serpent's skin. The tumult of each sacked and burning village; The wail of famine in beleaguered towns; The bursting shell, the gateway wrenched asunder, Is it, O man, with such discordant noises, Thou drownest nature's sweet and kindly voices, Were half the power that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error, There were no need of arsenals or forts. The warrior's name would be a name abhorred Would wear for evermore the curse of Cain! Down the dark future, through long generations, The echoing sounds grow fainter, and then cease; And, like a bell, with solemn, sweet vibrations, I hear once more the voice of Christ say "Peace!" Peace! And no longer from its brazen portals The blast of war's great organ shakes the skies! But beautiful as songs of the immortals The holy melodies of love arise. 6 ALL. BY FRANCIS A. DURIVAGE. Francis A. Durivage was born at Boston in 1814 and engaged early in journalistic work, writing for the magazines as well. He won considerable reputation with a series of humorous articles signed "Old Un." He wrote a great many poems of serious as well as of light character, and several plays. He published "Cyclopedia of Biography," "The Fatal Casket," "Life Scenes from the World Around Us," was part translator of Lamartine's "History of the Revolution of 1848," and co-author of "Stray Subjects." He died in New York city in 1881. ["I know of no finer poem of its length."-Bayard Taylor.] There hangs a saber, and there a rein, Come out to the stable-it is not far; The good black horse came riderless home, All? O, God! it is all I can speak. you all. BY MRS. A. L. BARBAULD. Anna Letitia Barbauld, the daughter of the Rev. John Aiken, was born at Kilworth-Harcourt, in Leicestershire, 1743. She married the Rev. Rochemond Barbauld. A poet as well as an essayist, she wrote "Poems," "Hymns in Prose for Children," "The Female Spectator," and "Eighteen Hundred and Eleven." She died at Stoke-Newington in 1825. |