She meets with smiles our bitter grief,
With songs our groans of pain;
She mocks with tint of flower and leaf
The war-field's crimson stain.
Still, in the cannon's pause, we hear
Her sweet thanksgiving-psalm;
Too near to God for doubt or fear,
She shares the eternal calm
She knows the seed lies safe below
The fires that blast and burn;
For all the tears of blood we sow
She waits the rich return.
She sees with clearer eye than ours
The good of suffering born,--
The hearts that blossom like her flowers
And ripen like her corn.
Oh, give to us, in times like these,
The vision of her eyes;
And make her fields and fruited trees
Our golden prophecies!
Oh, give to us her finer ear!
Above this stormy din,
We, too, would hear the bells of cheer
Ring peace and freedom in!
REVIEWS AND LITERARY NOTICES.
_The Tabernacle_: A Collection of Hymn-Tunes, Chants, Sentences, Motets,
and Anthems, adapted to Public and Private Worship, and to the Use of
Choirs, Singing-Schools, Musical Societies, and Conventions. Together
with a Complete Treatise on the Principles of Musical Notation. By B.F.
BAKER and W.O. PERKINS. Boston: Ticknor & Fields.
This thoroughly prepared book will prove of much service in those
departments of musical study and practice for which it is intended.
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