Soon will the bloom of the fairest fade, And love will droop in the cheerless shade, Or if tears should fall on his wing of joy, It will hasten the flight of the laughing boy. But oh! the light of the constant soul Nor time can darken nor sorrow dim; Though wo may weep in life's mingled bowl, Love still shall hover around its brim. TO SARAH. I. One happy year has fled, Sall, Since you were all my own, The leaves have felt the autumn blight, The wintry storm has blown. We heeded not the cold blast, Nor the winter's icy air; For we found our climate in the heart, And it was summer there. II. The summer's sun is bright, Sall, The skies are pure in hue; But clouds will sometimes sadden them, And dim their lovely blue; And clouds may come to us, Sall, But sure they will not stay; For there's a spell in fond hearts To chase their gloom away. III. In sickness and in sorrow Thine eyes were on me still, And there was comfort in each glance To charm the sense of ill. And were they absent now, Sall, I'd seek my bed of pain, And bless each pang that gave me back Those looks of love again. IV. Oh, pleasant is the welcome kiss, When day's dull round is o'er, And sweet the music of the step That meets me at the door. Though worldly cares may visit us, I reck not when they fall, While I have thy kind lips, my Sall, To smile away them all. THE AMERICAN FLAG. I. When Freedom from her mountain height Unfurled her standard to the air, She tore the azure robe of night, And set the stars of glory there. She mingled with its gorgeous dyes The milky baldric of the skies, And striped its pure celestial white, With streakings of the morning light; Then from his mansion in the sun She called her eagle bearer down, And gave into his mighty hand, The symbol of her chosen land. II. Majestic monarch of the cloud, Who rear'st aloft thy regal form, To hear the tempest trumpings loud And see the lightning lances driven, When strive the warriors of the storm, And rolls the thunder-drum of heaven, Child of the sun! to thee 'tis given To guard the banner of the free, To hover in the sulphur smoke, To ward away the battle stroke, And bid its blendings shine afar, Like rainbows on the cloud of war, The harbingers of victory! III.