While Washington's a watchword, such as ne'er Shall sink while there's an echo left to air.

Where may the wearied eye repose, When gazing on the Great; Where neither guilty glory glows, Nor despicable state? Yes--one the first, the last, the best, The Cincinnatus of the West Whom envy dared not hate, Bequeathed the name of Washington To make man blush; there was but one.

The Cincinnatus of the West, / Whom envy dared not hate, / Bequeathed the name of Washington, / To make man blush there was but one!

And dreams in their development have breath, And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy; They have a weight upon our waking thoughts, They take a weight from off our waking toils, They do divide our being.

A change came o'er the spirit of my dream.

Her glossy hair was cluster'd o'er a brow Bright with intelligence, and fair and smooth; Her eyebrow's shape was like the aerial bow, Her cheek all purple with the beam of youth, Mounting, at times, to a transparent glow, As if her veins ran lightning.