H Y M N
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'ng 0t Ghe Oieon, Sept 2Oih, on ths cccas'0n ef M V chanic Association, srritten by

 REV. MIR. PTERPoNr. Not with the conqueror's song, ~ Thy cOurts, o Gud, we thrOngV

 For battles gained; No canndn's sulphurous throat, No trumpet gives it's note, No banners OCT us float, With fresh blood stained. Over no captive kings, Our eagle spreads her wings, Or whets her beak; Nor, OCT the battle plain, l Where death-shot fell like rain, Where lie in gore the slam,

 Comes her shrill shriek. For ART, which thou hast given ..... The tribute, due to heaven,

 We come to pay; ART, that, to deck her halls, , On air and vapor calls, ..I .,... On winds and waterfalls, And all obey.

 ART, that, from shore to shore, ,. Moves, without sail or oar, 'Gainst winds and tides; Or, high OCT earth and seas, Sits m her car at ease, And heaven-ward, on the breeze,

 Triumphant rides. . ART, that, through mountain bars Breaks, that her horseless cars

 Self moved may go; -. And, without looking back, Rolls, on her iron track, Where the white cataract Thunders below. ,-s-... ART, that, on spool or reel, Winds the smooth silk or steel Spun by her hand, Then, with her touch of fire, Draws, from the chord or wire, Tones than an angel choir,

 Well might demand. ART, to thee, Mosr H1GH! Gladly doth sanctify

 Her works and powers Lord, ere our tongues are still, Our hands forget their skill, To thy most holy will

 Devote we ours.