New-York daily tribune. [volume] (New-York [N.Y.]) 1842-1866, 1857-07-22

And his WalloOn laDcers,
Smiling through their midst we u teach
Civil look and decent speech
To these boyish prancers"
Marvel not, my ancient friend,
Like beginning like the end,
Qotn the Laird of Ury;
&" IL the sinful servant more
Than his gracious Lord who bore
Bonds ana stripes in Jewry!
"Give me JOY that in His name
l can bear, with patient frame,
All these vain ones offer;
While for them lie suffereth long,
Shall answer wrong with wrong,
Scofling with the scofIer
"Happer |, with loss Of all,
Hunted, outlawed, held in thrall,
With few friends TO greet me,
Than when reeve and squire were seen,
Riding out from Aberdeen,
With barred heads TO meet me; .
when each good wife, Ger and Ger,
Blessed me as passed her door;
And the snOoded daughter,
Through her easement glancing down,
Smiled on him who bore renOwn
From red fields Of slaughter
lizard to feel the strangers scott,
Hard the old friends falling oil,
Hard to learn forgiving;
But the Lord his own rewards,
And his love with theirs accords,
Warm and fresh and living.
Through this dark and stormy night
Faith beholds feeble light
Up the biackness streaking;
Knowing Gods own time Is best,
In a patient hope rest =,
For the fun day-breaking!'
So the Laird of Try said,
Turning slow his horses head
Toward the Tolbooth prison,
Where, through iron CRATES, he heard
Poor disciples Of the Word
Preach Of Christ arisen
Not in vain, CoRfessor old,
Unto us the tale is told
OF thy day Of trial.
Every age on him who strays
From its broad and beaten ways,
Pours s seven-fold vial.
Happy he whose inward ear
Angel cOmfortings can hear,
Der the rabbe's laughter;
And, while Hatred's fagots burn,
Glimpses through the smoke discern
OF the good hereafter.
Knowing this, that never yet
Share OF Truth was vainly set
In this worlds wide falow;
After hands shall SOW the seed,
After hands from hill and mead
Resp the harvests yellow.
Thus, with somewhat of the Seer,
Must the moral pioneer
From the future borrow;
Clothe the waste with dreams OF gram,
And, on the midnight's sky of rain,
Paint the golden morrow!
Here IL noble tribute to Fremont, written dur
2 the midsummer heats of the late Presidential
nyass:
THE PASS OF THE SIERRA.
ALL night above the rocky bed
They saw the stars march slow;
The wild Sierra overhead,
The deserts death below.
The Indian from his lodge Of bark,
The gray bear frsm his den,
Beyond their camp-fre's wall OF dark,
Glared on the mountain men.
Still upward turned, with anxious strain,
Their leaders sleepless eye,
Where splipters Of the mountain chain
Stood black against the sky.
The night waved slow; at last, glow,
A CLEAN of sudden fire,
Shot up behind the walls Of snow,
And tipped each icy spire.
"Up, mem" he cried; "yon rocky cone,
To-day, please God, VIC 'll'pass,
And look from Winters frozen throne
On Summers flowers and grass
They set their faces to the blast,
They tired tn eternal snow,
And faint worn, bleeding hailed at last
The promised land below.
Behind, they saw the snow-clopd tossed
BY many an icy horn;
Before, warm valleys, wood-embossed,
And green with vines and corn.
They left the Winter at their backs
To flap his baffied wing,
And downward, with the cataracts,
Leaped to the lap Of Spring.
Strong leader of that mountain band,
Another tack remains,
To break from Ssvery's desert land
A path to Freedoms plains.
The winds are wild, the way is drear,
Yet, flashing through the night,
10 icy ridge and rocky spear
Blaze out in morning light
Rise up, Fremont and 90 before;
The Hour must have it's Man;
Put on the huntipg-s shirt .nce more,
And lead in Freedoms van!
OF different stamp, but on a subject highly con-
NAL with the poets hsbitual associations, is the
lowing:
TIE CONQUEST OF FINLAND.
ACROSS the frozen marshes
The winds Of Autumn blow
And the fen lands Of the Wetter
Are white with early Stow.