Be strong! I leave the living voice To rouse the valiant from repose, Hear it, and bear thou on, my love! Our mountains must be altars yet, There must our God be worshiped still With the worship of the free; Farewell! there 's but one pang in death, Ore only, leaving thee! MRS. HEMANS. LESSON CLV. MESSAGE TO THE DEAD. THOU'RT passing hence, my brother! But thou, my friend, my brother! Thou'rt speeding to the shore Where the dirge-like tone of parting words Shall smite the soul no more. And thou wilt see our holy dead, The lost on earth and main; Tell, then, our friend of boyhood, On the blue mountains, whence his youth The light of his exulting brow, Are on me still; oh! still I trust And tell our fair, young sister, The rose, cut down in spring, Her soft, deep eyes look through my dreams, Tell her my heart within me burns, And tell our white-haired father, And tell our gentle mother, Happy thou art, that soon, how soon, Oh! brother, brother! may I dwell, MRS. HEMANS. LESSON CLVI. ONLY ONE NIGHT AT SEA. "ONLY one night at sea," 'T was thus the promise ran, By frail, presumptuous mortal given, To vain, confiding man; "Only one night at sea, And land shall bless thy sight, When morning's rays dispel The shadows of that night.". The pledge has been received, The vessel leaves the shore, The merry beams of day And countless stars look down Within that stately boat The prattler's voice is still, And beauty's lovely form is there, Unheeding of the ill; And manhood's vigorous mind Is wrapped in deep repose, And sorrow's victim lies Forgetful of his woes. But, hark! that fearful sound, That wild appalling cry, That wakes the sleepers from their dreams, And rouses them-to die: Ah, who shall tell the hopes THE great eye of day was wide open, and a joyful light filled air, heaven, and ocean. The marbled clouds lay motionless far and wide over the deep, blue sky, and all memory of storm and hurricane had vanished from the magnificence of that immense calm. There was but a gentle fluctuation on the bosom of the deep, and the sea-birds floated steadily there, or dipped their wings for a moment in the wreathed foam, and again wheeled sportively away into the sunshine. One ship, only one single ship, was within the encircling horizon, and she had lain there as if at anchor since the morning light; for, although all her sails were set, scarcely a wandering breeze touched her canvas, and her flags hung dead on staff and at peak, or lifted themselves uncertainly up at intervals, and then sunk again into motionless repose. The crew paced not her deck, for they knew that no breeze would come till after meridian, and it was the Sabbath day. A small congregation were singing praises to God in that chapel, which rested almost as quietly on the sea, as the house of worship in which they had been used to pray then rested, far off on a foundation of rock, in a green valley of their forsaken Scotland. They were emigrants, without hope of seeing again the mists of their native mountains. But as they heard the voice of their psalm, each singer half forgot that it blended with the sound of the sea, and almost believed himself sitting, in the kirk of his own beloved parish. But hundreds of billowy leagues intervened between them and the little tinkling bell that was now tolling their happier friends to the quiet house of God And now an old, gray-headed man rose to pray, and held up his withered hand in fervent supplication for all around, whom, in good truth, he called his children; for three generations were with the patriarch in that tabernacle. There, in one group were husbands and wives standing together, in awe of Him who held the deep in the hollow of his hand; there, youths and maidens, linked together by the feeling of the same destiny, some of them, perhaps, hoping, when they reached the shore, to lay their heads on one pillow; there, children, hand in hand, happy in the wonders of the ocean; and there, mere infants smiling on the sunny deck, and unconscious of the meaning of hymn or prayer. A low, confined, growling noise was heard struggling beneath the deck, and a sailor, called with a loud voice, "Fire! fire! the ship's on fire!" Holy words died on the prayer's tongue! the congregation fell asunder; and pale faces, wild eyes, groans, shrieks, and outcries rent the silence of the lonesome sea. No one for awhile knew the other, as all were hurried as in a whirlwind up and down the ship. A dismal heat, all unlike the warmth of that beautiful sun, came stiflingly on every breath. Mothers, who in their first terror had shuddered but for themselves, now clasped their infants to their breasts, and lifted up their eyes to heaven. Bold, brave men grew white as ashes, and hands, strengthened by toil and storm, trembled like the aspen-leaf. "Gone! gone! we are all gone!" was now the cry; yet no one knew whence that cry came; and men glared reproachfully on each other's countenances, and strove to keep down the audible beating of their own hearts. The desperate love of life drove them instinctively to their stations, and the water was poured, as by the strength of giants, down among the smoldering flames. But the devouring element roared up into the air; and deck, masts, sails, and shrouds, were one crackling and hissing sheet of fire. "Let down the boat!" was now the yell of hoarse voices; and in an instant she was filled with life. Then, there was frantic leaping into the sea; and all who were fast drowning moved convulsively towards that little ark. Some sunk down at once into oblivion; some grasped at nothing with their disappearing hands; some seized in vain unquenched pieces of the |