No harp, no dulcimer, no guitar, Breaks into singing at Sunbeam's touch; But do not think that our evenings are Without their music; there is none such In the concert halls where the palpitant air In musical billows floats and swims; Our lives are as psalms, and our foreheads wear A calm like the feel of beautiful hymns. When cloudy weather obscures our skies, And some days darken with drops of rain, We have but to look in each other's eyes, And all is balmy and bright again. Ah! ours is the alchemy that transmutes The dregs to elixir, the dross to gold; And so we live on Hesperian fruits, Sunbeam and I, and never grow old. Never grow old: and we live in peace, And we love our fellows, and envy none; And our hearts are glad at the large increase Of plenteous virtue under the sun. And the days pass by with their thoughtful tread, And the shadows lengthen toward the west; But the wane of our young years brings no dread, To break our harvest of quiet rest. Sunbeam's hair will be streaked with gray, And Time will furrow my darling's brow; But never can Time's hand take away The tender halo that clasps it now. So we dwell in wonderful opulence, With nothing to hurt us, nor upbraid; And my life trembles with reverence, And Sunbeam's spirit is not afraid. PATRIOTISM AND PROVINCIALISM. In that memorable parliamentary battle between Webster and Hayne, the broad nationalism of the former stands out in splendid contrast with the narrow provincialism of the latter. Hayne's theme was small and sectional--it wanted bulk; hence, he continually intrudes himself in his subject: the subject is half, and Hayne and Webster the other and more important half. Webster, on the contrary, is completely absorbed in the magnitude of his subject; he forgets the very existence of such facts as Webster and Hayne, and considers only that the destinies of millions hang upon the great principles he is enunciating. Hayne is burdened with an inferior sense of personality, and never gets beyond the clouds; Webster's massive intellect shines out calm and bright as a fixed star--far beyond the gross atmosphere of personal strife or sectional antagonism. Hayne looks through a glass dimly, and sees only South Carolina--a part; Webster, with his grand _coup d'oeil_ sweeps the horizon, and his eagle glance takes in the entire Union as one perfect, organic whole. Hayne's logic, granting the premises, was a finished and splendid piece of mechanism; Webster started from a deeper and broader vantage-ground of universal principle and intuitive truth, and by one terrible wrench, of his giant intellect, Hayne's premises fell from under, and the labored superstructure of his logic went down in one confused mass of ruin with its foundations.