THE MUSTEE;

OR,

LOVE AND LIBERTY.

BY B. F. PRESBURY.

To hold you fast doth still my heart implore me,
Still bid me clutch the charm that lures and flies:
Ye crowd around; come, then, hold empire o'er me,
As from the mist and haze of thought ye rise.

FAUST, Brooks's Translation.

BOSTON:

SHEPARD, CLARK & BROWN.

PM

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1858, by

SHEPARD, CLARK & BROWN,

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.

PREFATORY.

IN fleeting tide among these silent leaves,
The mystic current of my dreaming flows,
And, gliding onward, in my soul there glows
The hope that o'er its deepest murmurs breathes
A tone which will not tremble to its close,
E'en when the cloud that dims my country's stars

Shall vanish in the holy light it bars.

Whence are the thoughts that like the morning soar?
Thrown up like pearls are they along our shore

By the deep waves from some diviner sphere ?
I know not how within my heart appear

The rays now joining the auroral gleam;

There seems a spell upon me while I dream,

And in weird whispers come-"You but transmit the beam."