I heard an angel speak last night, And he said, "Write-- Write a nation's curse for me, And send it over the western sea." I faltered, taking up the word: "Not so, my lord! If curses must be, choose another To send thy curse against my brother. For I am bound by gratitude, By love and blood, To brothers of mine across the sea, Who stretch out kindly hands to me." "Therefore," the voice said, "shalt thou write My curse to-night; From the summits of love a curse is driven, As lightning is from the tops of heaven." THE GRANDEUR OF DESTINY. WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT, an eminent American poet. Born at Cummington, Mass., November 3, 1794; died, June 12, 1878. Oh, Mother of a mighty race, Yet lovely in thy youthful grace! The elder dames, thy haughty peers, Admire and hate thy blooming years; With words of shame And taunts of scorn they join thy name. They know not, in their hate and pride, What virtues with thy children bide; How true, how good, thy graceful maids Make bright, like flowers, the valley shades; What generous men Spring, like thine oaks, by hill and glen; What cordial welcomes greet the guest By the lone rivers of the West; How faith is kept, and truth revered, And man is loved, and God is feared, In woodland homes, And where the solemn ocean foams. Oh, fair young Mother! on thy brow Shall sit a nobler grace than now. Deep in the brightness of thy skies, The thronging years in glory rise, And, as they fleet, Drop strength and riches at thy feet. AMERICAN NATIONAL HASTE. JAMES BRYCE, M. P. Born at Belfast, Ireland, May 10, 1838. Appointed Regius Professor of Civil Law to the University of Oxford, England, 1870. From his "American Commonwealth."