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Among them majestic is standing
Sandalphon, the angel, expanding

His pinions in nebulous bars.

And the legend, I feel, is a part
Of the hunger and thirst of the heart,

The frenzy and fire of the brain,
That grasps at the fruitage forbidden,
The golden pomegranates of Eden,

To quiet its fever and pain.


A WIND came up out of the sea,
And said, “ O mists, make room for me."

It hailed the ships, and cried, " Sail on,
Ye mariners, the night is gone."

And hurried landward far away,
Crying, “ Awake! it is the day.”

It said unto the forest, “ Shout !
Hang all your leafy banners out !”

It touched the wood-bird's folded wing, And said, “ O bird, awake and sing.”

And o'er the farms, “ O chanticleer,
Your clarion blow; the day is near.”

It whispered to the fields of corn, “ Bow down, and hail the coming morn.”

It shouted through the belfry-tower,
“Awake, O bell! proclaim the hour.”

It crossed the churchyard with a sigh,
And said, “ Not yet ! in quiet lie.”

PAGE 72.

That of our vices we can frame

A ladder. The words of St. Augustine are, “De vitiis nostris scalam nobis facimus, si vitia ipsa calcamus."-SERMON III. De Ascensione.


A detailed account of this “apparition of a Ship in the Air” is given by Cotton Mather in his Magnalia Christi, Book I. Ch. VI. It is contained in a letter from the Rev. James Pierpont, Pastor of New Haven. To this account Mather adds these words :

“Reader, there being yet living so many credible gentlemen, that were eyewitnesses of this wonderful thing, I venture to publish it for a thing as undoubted as 'tis wonderful.” PAGE 84.

And the Emperor but a Macho. Macho, in Spanish, signifies a mule. Golondrina is the feminine form of Golondrino, a swallow, and also a cant name for a deserter.


Oliver Basselin, the Père joyeux du l'audeville,” flourished in the fifteenth century, and gave to his convivial songs the name of his native valleys, in which he sang them, Vaux-de-Vire.

This name

was afterwards corrupted into the modern Vaudeville.


This poem is founded on fact. Victor Galbraith was a bugler in a company of volunteer cavalry; and was shot in Mexico for some breach of discipline. It is a common superstition among soldiers, that no balls will kill them unless their names are written on them. The old proverb says, “Every bullet has its billet.” PAGE 110.

I remember the sea-fight far away. This was the engagement between the Enterprise and Boxer, off the harbor of Portland, in which both captains were slain. They were buried side by side, in the cemetery on Mountjoy.


“At Pisa the church of San Francisco contains a chapel dedicated lately to Santa Filomena; over the altar is a picture, by Sabatelli, representing the Saint as a beautiful, nymph-like figure, floating down from heaven, attended by two angels bearing the lily, palm, and javelin, and beneath, in the foreground, the sick and maimed, who are healed by her intercession.”—MRS. JAMESON, Sacred and Legendary Art, II. 298.


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