MISCELLANEOUS. 167 



I feel the lightnings in my blood. 



The thunders in my hand, 

 And I must work my destiny, 



Whoever may -withstand. 



" And if you'd give me, brother John, 



The sympathy I crave, 

 And stretch your warm fraternal hand 



Across the Atlantic wave, 

 I'd give it such a cordial grasp 



That earth should start to see, 

 And ancient crowns and sceptres shake 



That fear both you and me." 



Said brother John to Jonathan, 



" You do my nature wrong ; 

 I never hated, never scornedj 



But loved you well and long. 

 If, children of the self-same sire, 



"We've quarrelled now and then, 

 'Twas only in our early youth. 



And not since we were men. 



" And if with cautious, cooler blood, 



Result of sufferings keen, 

 I sometimes think you move too fast, 



Mistake not what I meaa 

 I've felt the follies of my youth. 



The errors of my prinie, 

 And dreamed for you — my father's son— 



A future more sublime. 



" And here's my hand, 'tis freely given, 



I stretch it o'er the brine, 

 And wish you from my heart of hearts 



A higher life than mine. 

 Together let us rule the world, 



Together work and thrive ; 

 For if you're only twenty-one, 



I'm scarcely thirty-five. 



"And I have strength for nobler work 



Than e'er lay hand has done, 

 And realms to rule and truths to plant 



Beyond the rising sun. 

 Take you the West and I the East, 



We'll spread ourselves abroad, 

 With trade and spade, and wholesome laws, 



And faith in man and God. 



