Truth crushed to earth shall rise again,- The eternal years of God are hers; But Error, wounded, writhes with pain, And dies among his worshippers.

Yet will that beauteous image make The dreary sea less drear And thy remembered smile will wake The hope that tramples fear

All that tread, the globe are but a handful to the tribes, that slumber in its bosom.

A sculptor wields The chisel, and the stricken marble grows To beauty.

A stable, changeless state, 'twere cause indeed to weep.

War, like all other situations of danger and of change, calls forth the exertion of admirable intellectual qualities and great virtues, and it is only by dwelling on these, and keeping out of sight the sufferings and sorrows, and all the crimes and evils that follow in its train, that it has its glory in the eyes of men.

Ah! never shall the land forget.