Part Thirteenth.

100

CHOICE SELECTIONS.

No. 13.

CENTENNIAL HYMN.-JOHN G. WHITTIER.

Our father's God! from out whose hand
The centuries fall like grains of sand,
We meet to-day, united, free,
And loyal to our land and Thee,
To thank Thee for the era done,
And trust Thee for the opening one.

Here, where of old, by Thy design,
The fathers spake that word of Thine,
Whose echo is the glad refrain
Of rended bolt and falling chain,
To grace our festal time from all'
The zones of earth our guests we call.

Be with us while the New World greets
The Old World thronging all its streets,
Unveiling all the triumphs won
By art or toil beneath the sun;
And unto common good ordain
This rivalship of hand and brain.

Thou who hast here in concord furled
The war-flags of a gathered world,
Beneath our western skies fulfill
The orient mission of good-will:

And, freighted with love's golden fleece,
Send back the Argonauts of peace.

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For art and labor met in truce,
For beauty made the bride of use,
We thank Thee, while withal we crave
The austere virtues, strong to save;
The honor, proof to place or gold;
The manhood, never bought nor sold.

Oh! make Thou us through centuries long,
In peace secure, in justice strong;
Around our gift of freedom draw
The safeguards of Thy righteous law,
And, cast in some diviner mold,
Let the new cycle shame the old.

TOM.-CONSTANCE FENIMORE WOOLSON.

Yes, Tom's the best fellow that ever you knew.
Just listen to this:-

When the old mill took fire, and the flooring fell through,
And I with it, helpless there, full in my view

What do you think my eyes saw through the fire
That crept along, crept along, nigher and nigher,
But Robin, my baby-boy, laughing to see

The shining? He must have come there after me,
Toddled alone from the cottage without

Any one's missing him. Then, what a shout-
Oh how I shouted, "For Heaven's sake, men,
Save little Robin!" Again and again

They tried, but the fire held them back like a wall.
I could hear them go at it, and at it, and call,
"Never mind, baby, sit still like a man!
We're coming to get you as fast as we can."
They could not see him, but I could.
Still on a beam, his little straw hat
Carefully placed by his side; and his eyes

He sat

Stared at the flame with a baby's surprise,
Calm and unconscious, as nearer it crept.
The roar of the fire up above must have kept

The sound of his mother's voice shrieking his name
From reaching the child. But I heard it. It came
Again and again. O God, what a cry!

The axes went faster: I saw the sparks fly

Where the men worked like tigers, nor minded the heat That scorched them,-when, suddenly, there at their feet,