ever by his side;" while independence of thought and action with regard to men, was mingled with the deepest humility and reverence toward God.

18. To draw merit from obscurity, to sustain honest industry, to encourage humble virtue, to stimulate the young to higher effort, and silently to relieve the suffering poor, were his pleasures. And with these pleasures would sometimes steal over his brow an expression denied to what the world calls beauty, "the set of features and complexion, the tincture of the skin that she admires." It was the beauty of the soul, looking forth in the life of one, who faithfully and without ostentation, held his large fortune in stewardship for God and for man.

EXERCISE CLXVII.

GENIUS WAKING.

J. G. PERCIVAL

1. Slumber's heavy chain hath bound thee,-
Where is now thy fire?

(>)

Feebler wings are gathering round thee,-

Shall they hover higher?

Can no power, no spell recall thee

From inglorious dreams?
O! could glory so appall thee,
With his burning béams?

2. Thine was once the highest pinion
In the midway air;

With a proud and sure dominion,

Thou didst upward bear,

Like the herald, winged with lightning,
From the Olympian throne,

Ever mounting, ever brightening,

Thou wert there alone.

3. Where the pillared props of heaven
Glitter with eternal snows,

Where no darkling clouds are driven,
Where no fountain flows,-
Far above the rolling thunder,

When the surging storm
Rends its sulphury folds asunder,
We beheld thy form.

4. O, what rare and heavenly brightness Flowed around thy plumes,

As a cascade's foamy whiteness,
Lights a cavern's glooms!

Wheeling through the shadowy ocean,
Like a shape of light,

With serene and placid motion,
Thou wert dazzling bright.

5. From that cloudless region stooping,
Downward thou didst rush,

Not with pinion faint and drooping,
But the tempest's gush.

(") Up again, undaunted soaring,
Thou didst pierce the cloud,

When the warring winds were roaring
Fearfully and loud.

6. Where is now that restless longing After higher things?

Come they not, like visions, thronging

On their airy wings?

Why should not their glow enchant thee
Upward to their bliss?

Surely danger can not daunt thee

From a heaven like this.

7. (sl.) But thou slumberest; faint and quivering Hangs thy ruffled wing;

Like a dove in winter shivering,

Or a feebler thing.

(<) Where is now thy might and motion,
Thy imperial flight?

Where is now thy heart's devotion?
Where thy spirit's light?

8. Hark! his rustling plumage gathers
Closer to his side,

Close, as when the storm-bird weathers
Ocean's hurrying tide.

Now his nodding beak is steady,-
Wide his burning eye,-
Now his opening wings are ready,

And his aim-how high!

9. Now he curves his neck, and proudly
Now is stretched for flight!

Hark! his wings-they thunder loudly
And their flash,-how bright!
Onward, onward, over mountain,
Through the rock and storm,
Now, like sunset over fountain,
Flits his glancing form.

10. Glorious bird! thy dream has left thee,Thou hast reached thy heaven,Lingering slumber hath not reft thee

Of the glory given.

With a bold, a fearless pinion,

On thy starry road,

None, to fame's supreme dominion,
Mightier ever trode.

EXERCISE CLXVIII.

BATTLE OF WATERLOO.*

1 There was a sound of revelry by night,
And Belgium's capital had gathered then
Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright
The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men!
A thousand hearts beat happily; and when
Music arose with its voluptuous swell,

Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again,
And all went merry as a marriage-bell;

BYRON

[knell!

(0) But hush! hark!-a deep sound strikes like a rising

2. Did ye not hear it ?-No; 'twas but the wind,
Or the car rattling o'er the stony street;

(°) On with the dance; let joy be unconfined;
No sleep till morn, when youth and pleasure meet
To chase the glowing hours with flying feet—

(0) But, hark!—That heavy sound breaks in once more, As if the clouds its echo would repeat;

And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before!

(°°) Arm! ARM! it is—it is the cannon's opening roar !

3. Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago

Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness;

* On the night previous to the battle, a splendid ball was given at Brussels. The Duke of Wellington, having heard of Napoleon's decisive operations, had intended to have the ball put off; but, it seeming important that the people of Brussels should be kept in ignorance of what was in progress, the Duke not only desired that the ball should be held, but that the general officers should be present. They were, however, instructed to quit the place as quietly as possi ble, at 10 o'clock, and join immediately each his own respective d'

vision

And there were sudden partings, such as press
The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs
Which ne'er might be repeated-who could guess
If ever more should meet, those mutual eyes,

Since upon night so sweet, such awful morn could rise?

4. (=) And there was mounting, in hot haste; the steed,
The mustering squadron, and the clattering car,
Went pouring forward with impetuous speed,
And swiftly forming in the ranks of war,
And the deep thunder, peal on peal afar;
And near, the beat of the alarming drum
Roused up the soldier ere the morning star;
While thronged the citizens, with terror dumb,
Or whispering with white lips-"The foe! They come,
they come !"

5. And Ardennes* waves above them her green leaves,
Dewy with Nature's tear-drops, as they pass,
Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves,
Over the unreturning brave,-alas!
Ere evening to be trodden like the grass,
Which now beneath them, but above shall
In its next verdure, when this fiery mass

Of living valor, rolling on the foe,

grow

And burning with high hope, shall molder cold and low.

6. Last noon beheld them full of lusty life,

Last eve in beauty's circle proudly gay,

The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife,

The morn, the marshaling in arms,—the day,
Battle's magnificently-stern array!

The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which, when rent,
The earth is covered thick with other clay,
Which her own clay shall cover, heaped and pent,
Rider and horse,--friend, foe,-in one red burial blent!
* Proncunced in two syllables.