Know her! Who knows not Uncle Tom And her he learned his gospel from Has never heard of Moses; Full well the brave black hand we know That gave to freedom's grasp the hoe That killed the weed that used to grow Among the Southern roses. When Archimedes, long ago, Spoke out so grandly, "_dos pou sto_-- Give me a place to stand on, I'll move your planet for you, now,"-- He little dreamed or fancied how The _sto_ at last should find its _pou_ For woman's faith to land on. Her lever was the wand of art, Her fulcrum was the human heart, Whence all unfailing aid is; She moved the earth! Its thunders pealed, Its mountains shook, its temples reeled, The blood-red fountains were unsealed, And Moloch sunk to Hades. All through the conflict, up and down Marched Uncle Tom and Old John Brown, One ghost, one form ideal; And which was false and which was true, And which was mightier of the two, The wisest sibyl never knew, For both alike were real. Sister, the holy maid does well Who counts her beads in convent cell, Where pale devotion lingers; But she who serves the sufferer's needs, Whose prayers are spelt in loving deeds, May trust the Lord will count her beads As well as human fingers. When Truth herself was Slavery's slave, Thy hand the prisoned suppliant gave The rainbow wings of fiction. And Truth who soared descends to-day Bearing an angel's wreath away, Its lilies at thy feet to lay With Heaven's own benediction. A WELCOME TO DR. BENJAMIN APTHORP GOULD ON HIS RETURN FROM SOUTH AMERICA AFTER FIFTEEN YEARS DEVOTED TO CATALOGUING THE STARS OF THE SOUTHERN HEMISPHERE Read at the Dinner given at the Hotel Vendome, May 6,1885. ONCE more Orion and the sister Seven Look on thee from the skies that hailed thy birth,-- How shall we welcome thee, whose home was heaven, From thy celestial wanderings back to earth? Science has kept her midnight taper burning To greet thy coming with its vestal flame; Friendship has murmured, "When art thou returning?" "Not yet! Not yet!" the answering message came. Thine was unstinted zeal, unchilled devotion, While the blue realm had kingdoms to explore,-- Patience, like his who ploughed the unfurrowed ocean, Till o'er its margin loomed San Salvador. Through the long nights I see thee ever waking, Thy footstool earth, thy roof the hemisphere, While with thy griefs our weaker hearts are aching, Firm as thine equatorial's rock-based pier. The souls that voyaged the azure depths before thee Watch with thy tireless vigils, all unseen,-- Tycho and Kepler bend benignant o'er thee, And with his toy-like tube the Florentine,-- He at whose word the orb that bore him shivered To find her central sovereignty disowned, While the wan lips of priest and pontiff quivered, Their jargon stilled, their Baal disenthroned. Flamsteed and Newton look with brows unclouded, Their strife forgotten with its faded scars,-- (Titans, who found the world of space too crowded To walk in peace among its myriad stars.)