O;FFICE, Or THE STAR, BAITIJIIOAN STREET,_ _ FIVE DOWN NORTH' OP TUE-POST OPFIC*;GETTYSTBVROT PA. • *RTISEIIIESTS Conspicuously . 14titiiled roux times. lin ONE . DOLLAR per square.:4lrtfrftp times, TWIINTY-FIVE c notTs per square will lip Olierged. Printed and PubHahne); at Grrricsaito, PA, BY ROBERT WiMIDDLETON. POE "With swrc&. From various gord- For the Get4burg Star. Mn. EDITOR--The following lines wore occasioned lAy reading an article In the last "STAR," bend• 'O 4 THINK OF YOUR COUNTRY'S GLO. RY, 4 ' written by the "young lady who super intends the Female Department in the "Grsius OF UNIVERSAL. EbIANCIPATION." IMPROMPTU. I,An4! dot thou fool what thou host sung So sweetly on thy doleful lyre About the bleeding race of. 0, ye§, thou surely dost—for pity's_self• Alrms coUld prompt them thus.to sing: THINK OV OUR COUNTRY'S GI.ORY!”— And 6 who, that has a heart riot made Of adamantine hardness, can refuse to "Think ()four Country's Glory," and • Contrast it with the wretched state. of o Ham's dejected_and forlorn children? SLATT,RY! thou art indeed a gory Stain upon our "Country's Glory!" 0, my country! how is thy "Spangled Banner" dimm'd with Afric's bleeding tears! And shall that "Spangled Banner," which So proudly t 199 over land and-sea, Be dimmedmuch longer by the tears Of those poor wretches of the "Golden Strand" Whom" SLAVERY hair doom'd to misery (5. we? Oh, no! for soon the Oppressor's heart, His stony heart, will learn to feel. For who can long resist, when tenderness So eloquently pleads for suffering • And oppreqsed humanity! Oh, ye fair daughters of Columbia! Weep—weep for our "CouNray's Gi.onv!" YOUR tears, at length, MAY wipe the stain From off our country's escutcheon. . • GETTYSBURG, Alitten 9, 1831. THERE'S MUSIC IN A MOTHER'S VOICE • Thereto music in a mother's voice, More sweet than breezes sighing; • There's kindness in a. mother's glance, Too pure for over_ dying. There's love within a mother's breast, So'deep, 'tis still diet-flowing, And carp for those , she calls her own. Tliat',# over, ever growing. There's anguish in a mother's (oar, When farewell fondly taking That so the heart of pity moves, It scarcely keeps from breaking. And when n mother kneels to Heaven, And for her child is praying, 0, who shall