God never set that holy sign In deathless light among His stars To make its blazonry divine A scutcheon for thine impious wars!
And surely as the Wrong must fail Before the everlasting Right, So surely thy device shall pale And shrivel in the Northern Light!
Look, where its coming splendors stream! The red and white athwart the blue,-- While far above, the unconquered gleam Of Freedom's stars is blazing through!
Hark to the rustle and the sweep, Like sound of mighty wings unfurled, And bearing down the sapphire steep Heaven's hosts to help the imperilled world!
Light in the North! Each bristling lance Of steely sheen a promise bears; And all the midnight where they glance A rosy flush of morning wears!
Yon symbol of your Southern sky Shall surely mean but grief and loss; Then tremble, as ye raise on high, In sacrilege, the Southern Cross!
O brothers! we entreat in pain, Take ye the unblessed emblem down! Or purge your standard of its stain, And join it with the Northern Crown!
Once upon a time, Mr. Smith, who was seven feet in height, went out for a walk with Mr. Brown, whose stature was three feet and a half. It was in a distant age, in which people were different from what they are now, and in which events occurred such as do not usually occur in these days. Smith and Brown, having traversed various paths, and having passed several griffins, serpents, and mail-clad knights, came at length to a certain river. It was needful that they should cross it; and the idea was suggested that they should cross it by wading. They proceeded, accordingly, to wade across; and both arrived safely at the farther side. The water was exactly four feet deep,--not an inch more or less. On reaching the other bank of the river, Mr. Brown said,--
"This is awful work; it is no joke crossing a river like _that_. I was nearly drowned."
"Nonsense!" replied Mr. Smith; "why make a fuss about crossing a shallow stream like this? Why, the water is only four feet deep: _that_ is nothing at all!"
"Nothing to you, perhaps," was the response of Mr. Brown, "but a serious matter for me. You observe," he went on, "that water four feet deep is just six inches over my head. The river may be shallow to you, but it is deep to me."