War doth rage 'twixt Britain's king, we know,
And ours. Now tell me unto whom most thanks our liege shall owe,
When war is o'er? To him who, oft assailed but never quelled,
The castle of Rochelle upon the dangerous Marches held,--
Whose battlements must bristle still with halberd, bow, and lance,--
Or Montl'hery's, that nestles safe close to the heart of France?'
'Unto the warden of Rochelle. Thou'rt answered easily!'
'That stronghold is thy heart, but mine the keep of Montl'hery,
For He who giveth gifts to all, hath given me to believe
So steadfastly, that strife like thine my wit can scarce conceive.
From th' Enemy God keepeth me,--He knows my weaker strength,--
But suffers thee assayed to be for higher meed at length.
Then let us at our different posts His equal mercies own;
But they the sharpest thorns who bear may wear the brightest crown.'
Beside the kneeling penitent the abbot bent his knee,
Sent his own praise and prayers to heaven forth on an embassy,
Then raised him up, and saw that God had sent him answering grace;
The shadow of the Enemy had left his heart and face.
Calmly as warily he walked his fellow men beside,
A good, grave man. 'Tis said, at last a happy man he died.'
UNION NOT TO BE MAINTAINED BY FORCE.
The enemies of our cause in Europe seem to have settled in their own
minds the certainty of a final separation of the American States.
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