Oh! that true nobleness that rises up, And teaches man his kindredship to Thee; Which wakes the slaveling from the poison cup Of passion, bidding him be grandly free: May it be ours, in these the evil days, That fall upon our nation like a pall; May we have power each one himself to raise, And place God's signet on the brow of all! Not race nor color is the badge of slaves; 'Tis manhood, after all, that makes men free; Weakness is slavery; 'tis but mind that saves God's glorious image as he willed it be. Out of the shadows thick, will coming day Send Peace and Plenty smiling o'er our land; And the events that fill us with dismay, Are but the implements in God's right hand. Where patriot blood is poured as cheap as rain, A newer freedom, phoenix-like, will spring; Our Father never asks for us in vain: From noble seed comes noble harvesting. Then let, to-day, true nobleness be ours; That we be worthy of the day of bliss, When truth's, and love's, and freedom's allied powers Shall bind all nations with fraternal kiss. Would we might see, as did the saint of old, The heavens opening, and the starry throng Listening to have our tale of peace be told, That they may hymn man's resurrection song! _DESPERATION AND COLONIZATION._ As the war rolls on, and as the prospects of Federal victory increase, the greater becomes the anxiety to know what must be done to secure our conquests. How shall we reestablish the Union in its early strength? How shall we definitely crush the possibility of renewed rebellion? The tremendous taxation which hangs over us gives fearful meaning to these questions. And they must be answered promptly and practically.