THE FOUNTAIN. JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. Into the sunshine, Into the moonlight, Into the starlight Ever in motion, Blithesome and cheery, Still climbing heavenward, Never aweary; Glad of all weathers, Full of a nature Ceaseless aspiring, Ceaseless content, Darkness or sunshine Thy element; Glorious fountain, Let my heart be Fresh, changeful, constant, Upward, like thee! THE BROOK. ALFRED TENNYSON. I chatter over stony ways, With many a curve my banks I fret I chatter, chatter, as I flow I wind about, and in and out, And here and there a foamy flake With many a silvery waterbreak And draw them all along, and flow I steal by lawns and grassy plots, I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, I murmur under moon and stars And out again I curve and flow For men may come and men may go, THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS. HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. It was the schooner Hesperus, That sailed the wintry sea; And the skipper had taken his little daughter, To bear him company. Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax, Her cheeks like the dawn of day, And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds, The skipper he stood beside the helm, His pipe was in his mouth, And watched how the veering flaw did blow The smoke now West, now South. Then up and spake an old sailor, "I pray thee, put into yonder port, "Last night, the moon had a golden ring, The skipper, he blew a whiff from his pipe, Colder and louder blew the wind, Down came the storm, and smote amain, The vessel in its strength; She shuddered and paused, like a frightened steed, Then leaped her cable's length. "Come hither! come hither! my little daughter, And do not tremble so; For I can weather the roughest gale, He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat He cut a rope from a broken spar, "O father! I hear the church-bells ring, O say, what may it be?" "Tis a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!"' And he steered for the open sea. "O father! I hear the sound of guns, ་་ "O father! I see a gleaming light, O say, what may it be?" But the father answered never a word, Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark, The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed And she thought of Christ, who stilled the wave, And fast through the midnight dark and drear, And ever the fitful gusts between A sound came from the land; It was the sound of the trampling surf, The breakers were right beneath her bows, And a whooping billow swept the crew She struck where the white and fleecy waves But the cruel rocks, they gored her sides Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice, At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach, To see the form of a maiden fair, The salt sea was frozen on her breast, The salt tears in her eyes; And he saw her hair, like the brown sea-weed, On the billows fall and rise. Such was the wreck of the Hesperus, In the midnight and the snow! Christ save us all from a death like this, On the reef of Norman's Woe! LUCY GRAY; OR, SOLITUDE. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray: |