4. The maid on whose cheek, on whose brow, in whose eye Shone beauty and pleasure, her triumphs are by;

And the memory of those that beloved her and prais'd,
Are alike from the minds of the living erased.

5. The hand of the king, that the scepter hath borne,
The brow of the priest, that the miter hath worn,
The eye of the sage, and the heart of the brave,
Are hidden and lost in the depths of the grave.

6. The peasant whose lot was to sow and to reap,
The herdsman who climb'd with his goats to the steep,
The beggar that wander'd in search of his bread,
Have faded away like the grass that we tread.

7. The saint that enjoy'd the communion of Heaven,
The sinner that dared to remain unforgiven,
The wise and the foolish, the guilty and just,
Have quietly mingled their bones in the dust.

8. So the multitude goes, like the flower and the weed,
That wither away to let others succeed;

So the multitude comes-even there we behold,
To repeat every tale that hath often been told.

9. For we are the same things that our fathers have been, We see the same sights that our fathers have seen; We drink the same streams, and we feel the same sun, And we run the same course that our fathers have run.

10. The thoughts we are thinking, our fathers would think; From the death we are shrinking from, they too would shrink;

The life we are clinging to, they too would cling;
But it speeds from the earth, like a bird on the wing.

11. They loved-but their story we cannot unfold;
(%) They scorned-but the heart of the haughty is cold;

They grieved-but no wail from their slumbers may come;
They joy'd-but the voice of their gladness is dumb.

12. They died! (pl.) aye, they died; and we things that are now, Who walk on the turf that lies over their brow,

Who make in their dwellings a transient abode,
Meet the changes they met on their pilgrimage road.

13. Yea, hope and despondence, and pleasure and pain,
Are mingled together like sunshine and rain;

And the smile and the tear, and the song and the dirge,
Still follow each other like surge upon surge.

14. 'Tis the twink of an eye, 'tis the draught of a breath,
From the blossom of health to the paleness of death,
From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud;
Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?

QUESTIONS.-1. How, according to the notation, should the first stanza be read? 2. How the eleventh and twelfth stanzas? 3. What direction is given for securing the distinct articulation of such words as fast-flitting, fast-flying, second line, first stanza? See Remark, page 15.

EXERCISE LII.

THE AMERICAN FOREST GIRL.

MRS. HEMANS.

1. Wildly and mournfully the Indian drum
On the deep hush of moonlit forests broke;
"Sing us a death-song, for thine hour is come;"
So the red warriors to their captive spoke.
Still, and amidst those dusky forms alone,

A youth-a fair-haired youth of England stood,
Like a king's son; though from his cheek had flown
The mantling crimson of the island blood,

And his pressed lips looked marble.

2. Fiercely bright,

And high around him, blazed the fires of night,
Rocking beneath the cedars to and fro,

As the wind passed, and, with a fitful glow,
Lighting the victim's face. But who could tell
Of what within his secret heart befell,

Known but to Heaven that hour?

3. Perchance a thought

Of his far home then so intensely wrought,
That his full image, pictured to his eye,
On the dark ground of mortal agony,
Rose clear as day! and he might see the band
Of his young sisters, wandering hand in hand,
Where the laburnums drooped; or haply binding
The jasmine, up the door's low pillars winding;
Or, as day closed upon their gentle mirth,
Gathering, with braided hair, around the hearth
Where sat their mother; and that mother's face,
Its grave sweet smile yet wearing in the place
Where so it ever smiled!

4. Perchance the prayer

Learned at her knee came back on his despair;

The blessing from her voice, the very tone

Of her "Good-night!" might breathe from boyhood gone! He started and looked up; thick cypress boughs,

Full of strange sound, waved o'er him, darkly red

In the broad stormy fire-light; savage brows,

With tall plumes crested, and wild hues o'erspread,
Girt him like feverish phantoms; and pale stars
Looked through the branches as through dungeon bars,
Shedding no hope. He knew, he felt his doom;
(e) Oh, what a tale to shadow with its gloom

That happy hall in England! Idle fear!

Would the winds tell ít ?—who might dream or hear
The secrets of the forests?

5. (8.) To the stake

They bound him; and the proud young soldier strove His father's spirit in his breast to wake,

Trusting to die in silence! He, the love
Of many hearts!—the fondly-reared—the fair,
Gladdening all eyes to see! And fettered there,
He stood beside his death-pyre, and the brand
Flamed up to light it, in the chieftain's hand.

6. He thought upon his God. (p.) Hush! hark! a cry
Breaks on the stern and dread solemnity;

A step hath pierced the ring! Who dares intrude
On the dark hunters in their vengeful mood?
A girl—a young slight girl—a fawn-like child
Of green savannas and the leafy wild,

Springing, unmarked till then, as some lone flower,
Happy because the sunshine is its dower;
Yet one that knew how early tears are shed,
For hers had mourned a playmate brother dead.
7. She had sat gazing on the victim long,
Until the pity of her soul grew strong;
And, by its passion's deepening fervor swayed,
Even to the stake she rushed, and gently laid
His bright head on her bosom, and around
His form her slender arms, to shield it, wound
Like close Liannes; then raised her glittering eye
And clear-toned voice, that said, (ff.) “He shall not die !”

8. “HE SHALL NOT DIE !" the gloomy forest thrilled To that sweet sound. A sudden wonder fell

On the fierce throng; and heart and hand were stilled,
Struck down, as by the whisper of a spell.

9. They gazed, their dark souls bowed before the maid,
She of the dancing step in wood and glade!
And, as her cheek flushed through its olive hue,
As her black tresses to the night-wind flew,

Something o'ermastered them from that young mien, Something of Heaven, in silence felt and seen; And, seeming to their child-like faith a token, That the Great Spirit by her voice had spoken. (8)They loosed the bonds that held their captive's breath; From his pale lips they took the cup of death; They quenched the brand beneath the cypress-tree; (f)" AWAY!" they cried, "young stranger, THOU ART FREE!"

QUESTIONS.-1. Why the falling inflection on fear, 4th stanza! See Rule VIII., page 31. 2. What rule for the rising inflection on it, 4th stanza? 3. What, for the falling on forests, 4th stanza ?

EXERCISE LIII.

HONOR TO WOMEN.

FROM THE GERMAN OF SCHILLER.

1. Honor to women! entwining and braiding,

2.

Life's garland with roses forever unfading,

In the vail of the graces all modestly kneeling, Love's band with sweet spells have they wreathed, have

they blessed;

And, tending with hands ever pure, have caressed

The flame of each holy, each beautiful feeling.

Ever truth's bright bounds out-ranges

Man, and his wild spirit strives,
Ever with each thought that changes
As the storm of passion drives;
With heart appeased, contented never,
Grasps he at the future's gleam,
Beyond the stars pursuing ever
The restless phantom of his dream.

3. But the glances of women, enchantingly glowing,
Their light woos the fugitive back, ever throwing