But ere the sun went toward the tardy night,
The Valley then beheld the light

Of freedom's victory;

And wooded Tryon snatched from British arms
The empire of a million farms

On bright Oriskany.

The guns of Stanwix thunder to the skies;
The rescued wilderness replies;

Forth dash the garrison!

And routed Tories, with their savage aids,
Sink reddening through the sullied shades-
From lost Oriskany.

Charles D. Helmer.

0

Otsego, the Lake, N. Y.

OTSEGO LAKE.

HAUNTED lake, from out whose silver fountains
The mighty Susquehanna takes its rise;

O haunted lake, among the pine-clad mountains,
Forever smiling upward to the skies, -

Thrice blest art thou in every curling wavelet,
In every floating water-lily sweet,

From the old Lion at thy northern boundary,
To fair Mount Vision sleeping at thy feet.

A master's hand hath painted all thy beauties;
A master's mind hath peopled all thy shore

With wraiths of mighty hunters and fair maidens,
Haunting thy forest glades forevermore.

A master's heart hath gilded all thy valley
With golden splendor from a loving breast;
And in thy little churchyard, 'neath the pine-trees,
A master's body sleeps in quiet rest.

O haunted lake, guard well thy sacred story, — Guard well the memory of that honored name! Guard well the grave that gives thee all thy glory And raises thee to long-enduring fame.

Anonymous.

IN

Passaic, the River, N. J.

THE FALLS OF THE PASSAIC.

'N a wild, tranquil vale, fringed with forests of green, Where nature had fashioned a soft, sylvan scene, The retreat of the ring-dove, the haunt of the deer, Passaic in silence rolled gentle and clear.

No grandeur of prospect astonished the sight,
No abruptness sublime mingled awe with delight;
Here the wild floweret blossomed, the elm proudly
waved,

And pure was the current the green bank that laved.

But the spirit that ruled o'er the thick tangled wood, And deep in its gloom fixed his murky abode,

Who loved the wild scene that the whirlwinds deform,
And gloried in thunder and lightning and storm;

All flushed from the tumult of battle he came,
Where the red men encountered the children of flame,
While the noise of the war-whoop still rang in his ears,
And the fresh bleeding scalp as a trophy he bears:
With a glance of disgust, he the landscape surveyed,
With its fragrant wild-flowers, its wide waving shade;
Where Passaic meanders through margins of green,
So transparent its waters, its surface serene.

He rived the green hills, the wild woods he laid low;
He taught the pure stream in rough channels to flow;
He rent the rude rock, the steep precipice gave,
And hurled down the chasm the thundering wave.

Countless moons have since rolled in the long lapse of time,

Cultivation has softened those features sublime;

The axe of the white man has lightened the shade,
And dispelled the deep gloom of the thicketed glade.

But the stranger still gazes, with wondering eye,
On the rocks rudely torn, and groves mounted on high;
Still loves on the cliff's dizzy borders to roam,
Where the torrent leaps headlong, embosomed in foam.
Washington Irving.

Perkiomen, the River, Pa.

THE PERKIOMEN.

HERE, in times long gone, October bright

In sombre forests set her glory-light;

Where village street leads o'er the bridge's span,
Among brown hills and peaceful meadows ran
The Perkiomen singing all the day.

For well-tilled fields gave back an hundred fold,
And well-filled barns could scarce their treasure hold.
The orchards bending 'neath the weight they bore
Cast down their golden fruit upon the shore
Of Perkiomen singing all the day.

There came a change; the leaves upon the wood
Burned brighter with a color as of blood.
The waving Northern Lights, the camp-fire's glow
Seemed from the heights a tinge of blood to throw
On Perkiomen at the close of day.

At morn a host marched proudly to the fight,
And some returned their camp-fires to relight,
And some to hear awhile the waters flow,
Then ears grew dull in coming death, and low
The Perkiomen sang on that dread day.

And prayers in many distant homes were said
By hearts that ne'er again were comforted,
While here the soldier saw in dreams again