BOSTON.
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Fair Bos,ea !! from thy meonlit bay, {. How calm thy towers in distance lay! How glcws thy outlines in the yves. @. When days proud orb hath sunk to rest! ! One cloud-an angels snowy wing,

 With shades of purple penciiing, /. Round Milton height hath wreatled a crown, On which the quiet stars look down.

 The battle hill is clear and bright--

 The Charles is rolling waves Of flght-- The granite tower is silvered o'er-- And floods of splendor kiss the shore. ( The sailor on the seething sea,

 In his wide path remembers thee, And hails, with song and wild acclaim, The bay that bears thy pilgrim name.e Yet Boston, lovelier far art thou, 4 Than this sweet crown upon thy brow,-- asa And night, in all her halls of flame, Hath found no words to speak thy fame. Clear, intellectual, serene,

 And purer thanthe starry sheen,

 Thy spirit, lofty, generous free,

 Rolls pFouder than the unbounded sea.