Broidered with gold, the Blue;

Mellowed with gold, the Gray.

So, when the summer calleth,
On forest and field of grain,
With an equal murmur falleth
The cooling drip of the rain,--
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day:
Wet with the rain, the Blue;
Wet with the rain, the Gray.

Sadly, but not with upbraiding,
The generous deed was done;
In the storm of years that are fading
No braver battle was won,—
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day:
Under the blossoms, the Blue;
Under the garlands, the Gray.

No more shall the war-cry sever,
Or the winding rivers be red;
They banish our anger forever,

When they laurel the graves of our dead,—
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day:
Love and tears, for the Blue;
Tears and love, for the Gray.

FRANCIS MILES FINCH.

PART VIII.

NATIONAL CENTENNIAL OBSERVANCES.

CENTENNIAL OF AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE.

Ar a World's Fair, or Exposition, held at Philadelphia, during the year 1876, commencing May 10, and opened with prayer by Bishop Matthew Simpson, of the Methodist Episcopal Church, the following patriotic hymn, composed by the poet John Greenleaf Whittier, was sung:

328

Be with us while the New World greets
The Old World, thronging all our streets,
Unveiling all the triumphs won
By art or toil, beneath the sun,
And unto common good ordain
This rivalship of hand and brain.

Thou, who hast here, in concord, furled
The war-flags of a gathered world,-
Beneath our Western skies fulfil

The Orient's mission of good will,
And, freighted with Love's Golden Fleece,
Send back the Argonauts of Peace.

For Art and Labor, met in truce,
For Beauty, made the bride of Use,
We thank Thee; while, withal, we crave
The austere virtues, strong to save,―
The Honor, proof to place or gold,
The Manhood, never bought or sold.

Oh, make Thou us, through centuries long,
In Peace secure, in justice strong;
Around our gift of Freedom draw
The safeguards of Thy righteous law;
And, cast in some diviner mould,
Let the new cycle shame the old.

The Centennial Commissioners appointed by the United States, through Senator Joseph Roswell Hawley, of Connecticut, President of the Commission, accepted the completed buildings from John Welsh, of Philadelphia, President of the Board of Finance, and the following cantata, written by the poet Sidney Lanier, of Macon, Georgia, was rendered:

THE MEDITATIONS OF COLUMBIA, 1876."

From this hundred-terraced height,
Sight more large, with nobler light,
Ranges down yon towering years;
Humbler smiles and lordlier tears
Shine and fall, shine and fall,
While old voices rise and call
Yonder, where the to-and-fro
Weltering of my Long-Ago
Moves about the moveless base,
Far below my resting-place.

Mayflower, Mayflower, slowly hither flying,
Trembling westward o'er yon balking sea,
Hearts within, "Farewell, dear England," sighing,
Winds without, "But dear in vain," replying,
Gray-lipped waves, about thee, shouted, crying,
No! It shall not be!

Jamestown, out of thee;

Plymouth, thee; thee, Albany.
Winter cries, "Ye freeze; away!"
Fever cries, "Ye burn; away!"
Hunger cries, "Ye starve; away!"
Vengeance cries, "Your graves shall stay!"

Then old shapes and masks of things,
Framed like Faiths, or clothed like kings;
Ghosts of Goods, once fleshed and fair,
Grown foul Bads in alien air;

War, and his most noisy lords,

Tongued with lithe and poisoned swords,
Error, Terror, Rage, and Crime,

All, in a windy night of time,

Cried to me, from land and sea,—
No! Thou shalt not be!

Hark!

Huguenots whispering "yea," in the dark!
Puritans answering "yea," in the dark!
Yea, like an arrow, shot true to its mark,
Darts through the tyrannous heart of Denial.
Patience and Labor and solemn-souled Trial,
Foiled, still beginning,

Soiled, but not sinning,

Toil through the stertorous death of the Night,
Toil, when wild brother-wars new-dark the Light,
Toil, and forgive, and kiss o'er, and replight.

Now Praise to God's oft-granted grace,

Now Praise to Man's undaunted face,
Despite the land, despite the sea,
I was, I am, and I shall be.

How long, Good Angel, O how long?

Sing me, from heaven, a man's own song!

"Long as thine Art shall love true love,
Long as thy Science truth shall know,
Long as thy Eagle harms no Dove,
Long as thy Law by law shall grow,
Long as thy God is God above,
Thy brother every man below,

So long, dear Land of all my love,

Thy name shall shine, thy fame shall glow!"

O Music, from this height of time, my Word unfold;
In thy large signals, all men's hearts Man's heart behold;
Mid-heaven, unroll thy chords, as friendly flags unfurled,
And wave the world's best lover's welcome to the world.

Upon the conclusion of the cantata, Ulysses Simpson Grant, the eighteenth President of the United States, with Dom Pedro II., Emperor of Brazil, then the guest of the United States, touched the keys that set in motion responsive machinery under fourteen acres of protecting roof.

INDEPENDENCE DAY, 1876.

Just at meridian, July 4, near Independence Hall, in the presence of one hundred thousand spectators, General Hawley, and, in the absence of the President of the United States, the acting Vice-President, Thomas White Ferry, of Michigan, President of the United States Senate, welcomed the visitors from all lands to a participation in exercises in honor of the Centennial birthday of the Republic. Bishop William Bacon Stevens, of the Protestant Episcopal Church, ecclesiastical successor of the first Chaplain of the Continental Congress, offered prayer; and a Hymn, composed by the poet Oliver Wendell Holmes, was sung:

WELCOME TO THE NATIONS.

Bright on the banners of lily and rose,
Lo, the last sun of our century sets!