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 grow

In its next verdure, when this fiery mass

Of living valor, rolling on the fɔe,

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.

EXERCISE CLXIX.

I.

HOPE.

Eternal Hope! when yonder spheres sublime
Pealed their first notes to sound the march of Time,
Thy joyous youth began-but not to fade,-
When all the sister planets have decayed;

When, wrapped in fire, the realms of ether glow,
And Heaven's last thunder shakes the world below,
Thou, undismayed, shalt o'er the ruins smile,
And light thy torch at Nature's funeral pile.

II.

IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL.

CAMPBEI L.

With what astonishment and veneration may we look into our own souls, where there are such hidden stores of virtue and knowledge, such inexhausted sources of perfection? We .know not yet what we shall be, nor will it ever enter into the heart of man to conceive the glory that will be always in reserve for him. The soul, considered with its Creator, is like one of those mathematical lines that may draw nearer to another for all eternity without a possibility of touching it. And can there be a thought so transporting as to consider ourselves in these perpetual approaches to Him, who is not only the standard of perfection, but of happiness?

III.

TRUE HAPPINESS.

True happiness is not the growth of earth,
The soil is fruitless, if you seek it there,

'Tis an exotic of celestial birth,

ADDISON.

And never blooms but in celestial air.
Sweet plant of paradise! its seeds are sown
In here and there a breast of heavenly mold,
It rises slow, and buds, but ne'er was known
To blossom here -the climate is too cold.

R. B. SHERIDAN.

IV.

A FIRM RELIGIOUS BELIEF.

I envy no quality of the mind or intellect in others; not genius, power, wit, or fancy; but, if I could choose what would be most delightful, and, I believe, most useful to me, I should prefer a firm religious belief to every other blessing; for it makes life a discipline of goodness, creates new hopes, when all earthly hopes vanish; and throws over the decay, the destruction of existence, the most gorgeous of all lights: awakens life even in death, and, from corruption and decay, calls up beauty and divinity; makes an instrument of torture and of shame the ladder of ascent to paradise; and, far above all combinations of earthly hopes, calls up the most delightful visions of plains and amaranths, the gardens of the blest, the security of everlasting joys, where the sensualist and the skeptic view only gloom, decay, annihilation, and despair.

V.
NATURE.

&R HUMPHREY DAVY.

SARAH J. HALE.

There's not a plant that springeth,

But bears some good to earth;
There's not a life but bringeth
Its store of harmless mirth;

The dusty wayside clover
Has honey in its cells,—
The wild bee, humming over,
Her tale of pleasure tells;
The osiers o'er the fountain,
Keep cool the water's breast,-
And on the roughest mountain
The softest moss is pressed.

Thus holy Nature teaches

The worth of blessings small,
That Love pervades and reaches,
And forms the b'iss of all.

VI.

RETROSPECTION.

It is pleasing to review the day that is past, and to think that its duties have been done; to think that the purpose with which we rose has been accomplished; that in the busy scene which surrounds us, we have done our part, and that no temptation has been able to subdue our firmness and our resolution. Such are the sentiments with which, in every year of life, and still more in that solemn moment, when life is drawing to its close, the man of persevering virtue is able to review the time that is past.

VII.

SELFISHNESS.

What e'er the passions, knowledge, fame, or pelf,
No one will change his neighbor for himself;
The learned are happy nature to explore,

The fool is happy that he knows no more.

VIII.

A RESOLUTE MIND.

POPE.

It is interesting to notice how some minds seem almost to create themselves, springing up under every disadvantage, and working their solitary but irresistible way through a thousand obstacles. Nature seems to delight in disappointing the assiduities of art, with which it would rear dullness to maturity; and to glory in the vigor and luxuriance of her chance productions. She scatters the seeds of genius to the winds, and though some may perish among the stony places of the world, and some may be choked by the thorns and brambles of early adversity, yet others will now and then strike root even in the clefts of the rock, struggle bravely up into sunshine, and spread over their sterile birth-place all the beauties of vegetation.

WASHINGTON IRVING.

IX.

THE DROP OF WATER.

I

'How mean, 'mid all this glorious space, how valueless am I!”
A little drop of water said, as, trembling in the sky,

It downward fell, in haste to meet th' interminable sea,
As if the watery mass its goal and sepulcher should be.

II.

But, ere of no account, within the watery mass it fell-
It found a shelter and a home, the oyster's concave shell;
And there that little drop became a hard and precious gem,
Meet ornament for royal wreath, for Persia's diadein.

III.

Cheer up, faint heart, that hear'st the tale, and though thy lot may seem Contemptible, yet not of it as nothing worth esteem;

Nor fear that thou, exempt from care of Providence, shall be

An undistinguishable drop in nature's boundless sea.

IV.

The Power that called thee into life has skill to make thee live,
A place of refuge can provide, another being give;

Can clothe thy perishable form with beauty rich and rare,

And, "when He makes his jewels up," grant thee a station there.

X.

FEMALE FORTITUDE.

RICHARD Mant.

I have often had occasion to remark the fortitude with which women sustain the most overwhelming reverses of fortune. Those disasters which break down the spirit of a man, and prostrate him in the dust, seem to call forth all the energies of the softer sex, and give such intrepidity and elevation to their character, that at times it approaches to sublimity. Nothing can be more touching than to behold a soft and tender female, who had been all weakness and dependence, and alive to every trivial roughness, while treading the prosperous naths of life, suddenly rising in mental force to be the comforter and supporter of her husband under misfortune, and abiding, with unshrinking firmness, the bitterest blasts of adversity.

WASHINGTON IRVING.