 p o E R V

From 1te soathe,a Literalu Messeneer.
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 BY MARY E. HEWITT. We are not aware that the following poem has ever appeared. The authoress thinks fl has not. though she gave il another direetion.-Ed 8iess.

 Thou conqueror of the wilderness. With keen and bloodless edge Hail, to the sturdy artisan hu tashiopcd thee, bold wedge9 Though the warrior d=em the weapon All unsecmly lor the brave fet the settler knows hee mightet hun inc tried Damascus glaiyc While desoiaton marlseth

 The course of i0cman's brand Fly blow, aye seatteas plenty, Abundant through the land. Thou p'nest the soil io culture To the sunlight and the dew, And the tillaga spre thou pantcst Whore of old the forest grew Thou hew'st orh mighty naYies From the erst nuyielding wood Their keels on every tide to float, Their aags OCT every 1ood When the broadsea rolled between them And their own flf native land Thou vert the goodr ally or the hardy pilgrim band. They bore no warillc caglca, No banners swept the sky Nor the clarion, like tempest Swelled ifs fearful notes on high. But the ringing wild reechoed Thy bold resistless strokes. Where. like incense, on the lnorinf, Wentup their cabin smokes, = The tall oaks bowed before them, Like reeds before the blast; And the earth tut forth in gladaess, Where the axe in triumph passed. Then hail thou noble eonqaeror That giy'st us 10 possess, With the freehold ofits fastnesscs, The ancient wilderness.