should be so bold; how she had never feared to enter the church alone, at night, but had loved to linger there when all was quiet; and even to climb the tower-stair, with no more light than that of the moon-rays stealing through the loop-holes in the thick old walls. A whisper went about among the oldest there, that she had seen and talked with ngels; and, when they called to mind how she had looked and spoken, and her early death, some thought it might be 60, indeed. 17. Thus, coming to the grave in little knots, and glancing down, and giving place to others, and falling off in whispering groups of three or four, the church was cleared, in time, of all but the sexton and the mourning friends. Then, when the dusk of evening had come on, and not a sound disturbed the sacred stillness of the place,-when the bright moon poured in her light on tomb and monument, on pillar, wall, and arch, -and, most of all, it seemed to them, upon her quiet grave, -in that calm time, when all outward things and inward thoughts teem with assurances of immortality, and worldly hopes and fears are humbled in the dust before them, then, with tranquil and submissive hearts, they turned away, and left the child with God. EXERCISE CXXXI. It is sometimes desirable to have each member of a class read a piece complete in itself. To answer this end, the following collection of brief, though beautiful productions, have been brought together all under one head. 1. I. THE SCULPTOR-BOY'S VISION. Chisel in hand stood a sculptor-boy, 2. And his face lit up with a smile of joy, As an angel-dream passed o'er him; He carved the dream on that shapeless stone, With heaven's own light the sculpture shone,- Sculptures of Life are we, as we stand If we carve it then, on the yielding stone, II. YEARS AGO. GEORGE P. MORE'S 1. Near the banks of that lone river, Breathed the fairest flower that ever 2. Like the stream with lilies laden, Hearts that love, like mine, forget not; III. FREEDOM OF THE MIND. WILLIAM LLOYD GARRISON, High walls and huge the body may confine, And vigilant keepers watch his devious ways: And in a flash from earth to heaven it goes! Or, in sweet converse, pass the joyous hours. ANNE C. LYNCH, IV. INVOCATION. 1 On the swift-flying hours Another bright day, With its tears and its smiles, Has vanished away. Thou who dost number Our days as they flee, May each that departs Bear us nearer to Thee! : 2. On the wide sea of life, Soon our barks will be tost, Be broken and lost. "For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.". Matthew, vi. 21. 1. Thy path, like most by mortal trod, Its stony steps, its velvet sod, Its sunshine and its showers. BERNARD BARTON. 2. Through smooth and rough, o'er flower and thorn, Still bear thee as a being born 3. And be thy choicest treasures stored For "where our treasure is," our Lord VII. LINES BY A YOUNG LADY BORN BLIND. 1. If this delicious, grateful flower, Which blows but for a little hour, 2. My father, when our fortune smiled, 1. With jewels decked his eyeless child; VIII. ODE TO THE LARK. Bird of the wilderness, Blithesome and cumberless, Sweet be thy matin o'er moorland and lea! Blest is thy dwelling-place, O, to abide in the desert with thee! Far in the downy cloud, Love gives it energy, love gave it birth, Where on thy dewy wing Where art thou journeying? Thy lay is in heaven, thy love is on earth. |