EXERCISE CXXXIV.

THE STARS OF NIGHT.

FRANCES BROWN.

1. Whence are your glorious goings forth,
Ye children of the sky,

In whose bright silence seems the power
Of all eternity?

For time hath let his shadow fall

O'er many an ancient light;

But ye walk above in the brightness still-
O, glorious Stars of Night!

2. The vestal lamp in Grecian fane
Hath faded long ago;

On Persia's hills the worshiped flame
Hath lost its ancient glow:

And long the heaven-sent fire is gone,
With Salem's temple bright;
But ye watch o'er wandering.Israel yet-
O, changeless Stars of Night!

3. Long have ye looked upon the Earth,
O'er vale and mountain-brow:

Ye saw the ancient cities rise,
And gild their ruins now;

Ye beam upon the cottage home,

The conqueror's path of might,

And shed your light alike on all—
O, priceless Stars of Night!

4. But where are they who learned from you
The fates of coming time,

Ere yet the pyramids arose
Amid their desert clime?

Yet still in wilds and deserts far,
Ye bless the watcher's sight,

And shine where bark hath never been-
O, lonely Stars of Night!

5. Much have ye seen of human tears,
Of human hope and love:

And fearful deeds of darkness, too,
Ye witnesses above!

Say, will that blackening record live
Forever in your sight,

Watching for judgment on the earth,—
O, sleepless Stars of Night?

6. How glorious was your song that rose
With the fresh morning's dawn!

And still, amid our summer sky,
Its echo lingers on;

Though ye have shone on many a glave,
Since Eden's early blight;

Ye tell of hope and glory still-
O, deathless Stars of Night!

EXERCISE CXXXV.

A MOTHER'S LOVE.

EMILY TAYLOR

i. Hast thou sounded the depths of yonder séa,
And counted the sands that under it bé?
Hast thou measured the hight of heaven abúve?
Then mayst thou measure a mother's love.

2. Hast thou talked with the blessed, of leading on
To the throne of God some wandering sún?
Hast thou witnessed the angels' bright employ?
Then mayst thou speak of a mother's joy.

3. Evening and morn, hast thou watched the bee
Go forth on her errands of industry?

The bee, for herself, hath gathered and toiled,
But the mother's cares are all for her child.

4. Hast thou gone with the traveler, Thought, afar,
From pole to póle, and from star to stár?
Thou hast, but on ocean, earth, or sea,
The heart of a mother has gone with thee.

5. There is not a grand, inspiring thought,
There is not a truth by wisdom taught,
There is not a feeling, pure and high,
That may not be read in a mother's eye.

6. And, ever since earth began, that look
Has been to the wise an open book,

To win them back from the love they prize,
To the holier love that edifies.

7. There are teachings on earth, and sky, and air, The heavens the glory of God declare,

But more loud than the voice beneath, above,

He is heard to speak through a mother's love.

QUESTIONS.—1. Are the questions in the above piece direct or mdi rect? 2. What pause after the word hast, fourth stanza, third line?

EXERCISE CXXXVI.

INFANCY AND MATURE AGE.-AN APOLOGUE.

[Men are, but children or a larger growth.]

1. 'Twas eight o'clock, and near the fire
My ruddy little boy was seated,

And with the titles of a sire

My ears expected to be greeted,-

CRA BBK

But vain the thought!-by sleep oppressed,
No father there the child descried!
His head reclined upon his breast,

Or nodding rolled from side to side.

2. "Let this young rogue be sent to bed;"-
More I had not time to say,

When the poor urchin raised his head
To beg that he might longer stay.
Refused; toward rest his steps he bent
With tearful eye and aching heart;
But claimed his playthings ere he went,
And took up stairs his horse and cart.

3. For new delay, though oft denied,

He pleaded;-wildly craved the boon;-
Though past his usual hour, he cried

At being sent away so soon.
If stern to him, his grief I shared ;
(Unmoved, who hears his offspring weep?)
Of soothing him I half despaired,
When all his cares were lost in sleep!

4. "Alas! poor infant !" I exclaimed, "Thy father blushes now to scan, In all which he so lately blamed, The follies and the fears of man.

The vain regret, the anguish brief,

Which thou hast known, sent up to bea,

Portrays of man the idle grief,

When doomed to slumber with the dead."

5 And more I thought ;-when up the stairs With "longing, ling'ring looks" he crept, To mark of man the childish cares,

His playthings carefully he kept.

Thus mortals on life's later stage,

When nature claims their forfeit breath,
Still grasp at wealth, in pain and age,
And cling to golden toys in death.

6. 'Tis morn! and see my smiling boy
Awakes to hail returning light;
To fearless laughter! boundless joy!
Forgot the tears of yesternight!
Thus shall not man forget his woe?
Survive of age and death the gloom?
Smile at the cares he knew below?
And, renovated, burst the tomb?

70, my Creator! when thy will

Shall stretch this frame on earth's cold bed,
Let that blest hope sustain me still,

Till thought, sense, mem'ry,-all are fled.
And, grateful for what thou may'st give,
No tear shall dim my fading eye,
That 't was thy pleasure I should live-
That 't is thy mandate bids me die.

EXERCISE CXXXVII.

SOCIAL ENJOYMENT,-WHERE FOUND.

N. Y. MIRROR,

1. "How have you enjoyed yourself this evening?" Mr. Westbury inquired, as soon as the carriage-door was closed, and the coachman had mounted his box.

2. "Quite as well as I do all scenes of similar character," Julia answered.

3.

tr Do you not then relish society?"

4. "Not very well, in such large masses," said Julia. "To my apprehension, very large parties counteract the purposes, for which social feelings were implanted within us."