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124 The National Music of America.
" Now scarce eleven short years, Have rolled their rapid spheres,
Thro' heaven's high road, Since o'er yon swelling tide, Passed all the British pride, And watered Bunker's side
With foreign blood.
" Then Charlestown's gilded spires, Met unrelenting fires,
And sunk in night: But Phenix like they'll rise, In columns to the skies, And strike the astonished eyes
With glories bright.
" Meandering to the deep Majestic Charles shall weep
Of war no more; Famed as the Appian way, The world's first bridge to-day, All nations shall convey,
From shore to shore."
One is a little astounded at the poetic license of the writer; the "sky-rapt brow" of the hill is not higher than some of the