REUNION.

An end at last ! The echoes of the war—

The weary war beyond the western waves— Die in the distance. Freedom's rising star Beacons above a hundred thousand graves : The graves of heroes who have won the fight, Who in the storming of the stubborn town Have rung the marriage peal of might and right, And scaled the cliffs and cast the dragon down.

Px.a.ns of armies thrill across the sea, Till Europe answers—" Let the struggle cease, The bloody page is turned ; the next may be For ways of pleasantness and paths of peace !"-

A golden morn—a dawn of better things— The olive-branch—clasping of hands again— A noble lesson read to conquering kings—

A sky that tempests had not scoured in vain.

This from America we hoped and him Who ruled her "in the spirit of his creed." Does the hope last when all our eyes are dim,

As History records her darkest deed?

The pilot of his people through the strife, With his strong purpose turning scorn to praise, E'en at the close of battle reft of life, And fair inheritance of quiet days.

Defeat and triumph found him calm and just, He showed how clemency should temper power, And dying left to future times in trust The memory of his brief victorious hour.

O'ermastered by the irony of fate, The last and greatest martyr of his cause; Slain like Achilles at the &Tan gate, He saw the end, and fixed "the purer laws."

May these endure and, as his work, attest

The glory of his honest heart and hand,— The simplest, and the bravest, and the best,—

The Moses and the Cromwell of his land.

Too late the pioneers of modern spite, Awestricken by the universal gloom, See his name lustrous in Death's sable night, And offer tardy tribute at his tomb.

But we who have been with him all the while, Who knew his worth, and loved him long ago, Rejoice that in the circuit of our isle 'I'here is no room at last for Lincoln's foe.

JOHN Nrcnor..