Tomorrow let us do or die!

The proud, the cold untroubled heart of stone, that never mused on sorrow but its own.

The meteor flag of England Shall yet terrific burn, Till danger's troubled night depart, And the star of peace return.

An original something, dear maid, you would wish me to write; but how shall I begin? For I'm sure I have not original in me, Excepting Original Sin.

Whose lines are mottoes of the heart,Whose truths electrify the sage.

O star-eyed Science, hast thou wander'd there, To waft us home the message of despair?

Ye are brothers! ye are men! And we conquer but to save.