With tact burned in the bone, She stands herself, alone, The peer of peers of ancient years, for highest functions fit; American in head Who woos her, she _may_ wed, If he hath grace, and wit, and worth, and sense, and soul and grit. Alive, alert and sweet, In rounded poise, complete, Come any day what will or may, she meets the world at par; American in soul, She brooks no man's control, But brings to _one_ a crystal love as stainless as a star. Who wins, she weds, retains, She lives, she loves, she reigns Through home and hall, and over all the sovereign of the scene; American in dower, She knows her native power, And holds the heart of him she loves, a Woman and a Queen. THE GOOD SHIP "OHIO." Swift o'er the lee when the wind flies free, Follows the ship "Ohio," With skies o'ercast she bends to the blast, Like a billowy bird she can fly, O, And she'll leave all behind in a whispering wind As soft as a maiden's sigh, O. Or when o'er the Lakes the storm-cloud breaks, And the waves scoop their murderous hollow, While the weaker ship to its mooring must slip And safe in a harbor wallow, In the front of the storm she fills her white form, And the demons of danger follow. O for the life 'mid the storm and the strife Of sailor and storm and billow! Far be my bed from the lubberly dead That sleep near the wailing willow, But give me the grave of the mutinous wave With its heaving and whistling pillow. Down from the skies look the spectral eyes Of our kelpie, sprite and bewailer, And gathering in crowds by the shivering shrouds, They croon while our cheeks grow paler, And they sing as they sweep o'er the clamorous deep: "We love the hot heart of a sailor!" THE AMERICAN GIRLS. Yes! The land we love Is a land of pretty girls, In grand variety; With their many colored eyes And their multi-colored curls, They'll steal thy heart from thee. If you travel in the North, One will gleam in glory forth, With her blue eyes, O, so blue! And her flash of golden hair Will be flirting in the air, While entrancing all the soul in you. Oho! My Boy! Oho! Always for your weal and never for your woe, Your little heart will gallop on the go, And it will not give you rest Within your manly breast, Till you land yourself in toto at her toe. Oho! My Boy! Oho! If you travel in the South, You will find a rosy mouth, And a black eye, O so black! And some strands of raven hair Will purloin your heart just there, And you'll never get the poor thing back. Oho! My Boy! Oho! Etc. If you travel in the East, Your dear soul will have a feast On a sweet eye, O so sweet! And a most seductive curl Will there give your heart a twirl That will fling you at two queenly feet. Oho! My Boy! Oho! Etc.