ODE.
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ODE. WRITTEN FOR THE ARKANSAS ADVOCATE. Ay! shout--'tis the day of your pride! Ye Anarchs and Kings of the earth! Go teach your fond slaves and your serfs

 to deride,

 And to rattle their letters in mirth. Ky shout--for the league of the Free Is about being shivered to dust, And the boughs are just breaking, and

 leaving the tree, Which Freedom had taken in trust Shout-shout--fo more safe and more cer-

 tain, henceforth, Will your thrones and dominions be over

 the earth. Laugh on! for such folly supreme The world had yet never beheld-- And ages to come, will the story but deem, As a tale by Antiquity swelled. For nothing that Time has upbuilt, And set in the annals of crime; So stupid in folly, so wretched In guilt, Has dark ened Tradtion abyme. It will be like the fable of Eblis' fall, A by-word of scorn and of horror to all. And ye! who would rage ont your name, From the league of the proud and the

 free, And a separate, ideal sovereignty claim, Like lone " ave deserting the sea- Oh! pause ere you plunge in the chasm, Which yawns in your traltorous way Oh! pause ere your liberty give her last

 spasm,

 And leave ye forever and aye. Ah pause ere the earthquake break out

 OF your souls, And the thunder of war thro' your green

 valleys rolls. Good God! what title and name, Will he paid to your falsehood and crime; In the deepest abysses of baseness and

 shame,

 Ye will writhe till tho end of all time: As men who have forged their own chains, Tore down what their fathers upbuilt-- And have tainted the blood in their own

 children's veins, With the poison of slavery and guilt. And Freedoms bright heart shall be

 henceforth tenfold, For your folly and fall, more discouraged

 and cold. What flag shall shine over the fires And the smoke of your patricide war, In the face of the stars and the stripes of

 your sires!

 A lone and diminishing starr With inc treason-cioud dimmipg it's

 glow,

 And it's waning crest close to the sea. Willth eagle-wlng shelter and shield yous

 Oh mol

 His wing will be spread Der the Free Miscall it--disgnIse it--and boast as ye

 will, Ye are traitors, and slaves to your foul lea

 ders still! Turn! turn then,--cast down Tn your

 might

 The Anarchs that sit at the helm, To steer your proud ship to the gulf winch

 the night

 Of thraldom and terror o'erwhelm. Turn back. from the mountains and glens- From the lakes, and the rivers and sea

 