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The chaise drove on; our journey's end
Was nigh; and, sitting by my side,
As if she'd lost her only friend,
She wept, nor would be pacified.

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HARP of the Zephyr, whose least breath, o'er
Thy tender string moving, is felt by thee;-
Harp of the whirlwind, whose fearfullest roar
Can arouse thee to nought but harmony;—

The leaf that curls upon youth's warm hand,
Hath not a more sensitive soul than thou;
Yet the spirit that's in thee, unharmed, can withstand
The blast that shivers the stout oak bough.

When thankless flowers in silence bend,

Thou hailest the freshness of heaven with song; When forests the air with their howlings rend, Thou soothest the storm as it raves along.

Yes: thine is the magic of Friendship's bower,-
That holicst temple of all below:-
Thou hast accents of bliss for the calmest hour,
But a heavenlier note for the season of wo.

Harp of the breeze, whether gentle or strong,
When shall I feel thy enchantment again?

Hark! hark!-even the swell of my own wild song Hath awakened a mild, responsive strain.

It is not an echo: 'tis far too sweet

To be born of a lay so rude as mine: But, oh! when terror and softness meet,

How pure are the hues of the wreath they twine!

Thus the breath of my rapture hath swept thy chords,
And filled them with music, alas! not its own,
Whose melody tells but how much my words,
Though admiring, have wronged that celestial tone.

I hear it, I hear it,-now fitfully swelling,
Like a chorus of seraphim earthward hying;
And now,—as in search of a loftier dwelling, -
The voices away, one by one, are dying.

Heaven's own harp! save angel fingers,

None should dare open thy mystic treasures. Farewell! for each note on mine ear still lingers, And mine may not mingle with thy blest measures

LESSON CV.

Burial of Sir John Moore.*-C. WOLFE.

NOT a drum was heard, nor a funeral note,
As his corse to the rampart we hurried;
Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot
O'er the grave where our hero we buried.

We buried him darkly, at dead of night,
The sods with our bayonets turning,
By the struggling moon-beam's misty light,
And the lantern, dimly burning.

No useless coffin enclosed his breast,

Nor in sheet, nor in shroud, we bound him; But he lay, like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him.

*Who fell in the battle of Corunna, in Spain, 1808

Few and short were the prayers we said,
And we spoke not a word of sorrow;
But we steadfastly gazed on the face of the dead,
And we bitterly thought of the morrow.

We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed,
And smoothed down his lonely pillow,
That the foe would be rioting over his head,
And we far away on the billow.

Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone,
And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him;
But nothing he'll reck, if they let him sleep on,
In the grave where a Briton has laid him.

But half of our heavy task was done,

When the clock tolled the hour for retiring;
And we heard, by the distant random gun,
That the foe was suddenly firing.

Slowly and sadly we laid him down,

From the field of his fame fresh and gory;
We carved not a line, we raised not a stone,
But left him alone with his glory.

LESSON CVI.

War contrary to the Courses of Nature, and the Spirit of the Gospel.-MELLEN.

Он! how shall man his crime extenuate !
What sees he in this brave o'erarching sphere,
The rich domain of nature, that will hold
A moment's friendship with his cheerless way!
He looks upon the wide and glowing earth,
And hears the hum of bees, and sees its bloom
Rolling in all its luxury for him.

He sees the trees wave in the peaceful sky,
And dally with the breezes as they pass.
He sees the golden harvest stoop for him,
And feels a quietness on all the hills.
He looks upon the seasons, as they come,
In beautiful succession, from the heavens,
With bud and blossoming, and fruits, and snows.

There is no war among them; they pass on,
Light beaming from their footsteps as they go,
And, with the cheerful voice of sympathy,
They give a melody to all the earth,

Each calling to the other through the year!
He looks upon the firmament, at night:
There are a thousand lustres hanging there,
Mocking the splendors of Golconda: there
He sees the glorious company of stars,
Journeying in peace and beauty through the deep,
Shining in praise forever! They look down,
Each like a bright and calm Intelligence,
Above a sphere they all compassionate.
There is no war among these sparkling hosts:
They go in silence through the great profound,
Each on its way of glory; they proclaim
The order and magnificence of Him.

Who bade them roll in peace around his throne.
Oh! when the planet shone o'er Bethlehem,
And light came round the shepherds on the hills,
And wise men rose in wonder from their dreams,
There came a voice sublime upon the winds,
Proclaiming Peace above a prostrate world!
The morning stars sang Peace: the sons of God
Struck all their heavenly lyres again; and Peace
Died in symphonious murmurs round the babe.
Thus broke Salvation's morning. But the day
Has heard new sounds; and, dissonant and dire,
The mingled tumult swelled the coming storm,
Darkening its path with black, portentous front,
Until it burst in havoc and in war!

Oh! may the fearful eventide of time,
Find man upon the dust in penitence,
In the strong brotherhood of Peace and prayer.

LESSON CVII.

Brief Account of the first Settlers of New England; their departure from Europe; and their landing at Plymouth, Mass. 22d Dec. 1620.-Abridged from ROBERTSON and NEAL.

ROBERT BROWN, a popular preacher in high estimation among the Puritans of England, in the reign of Queen

Elizabeth, maintained that a society of Christians, uniting together to worship God, constituted a church, possessed of complete jurisdiction in the conduct of its own affairs, independent of any other society, and accountable to no superior:-that the priesthood neither was a distinct order in the church, nor conferred an indelible character; but that every man, qualified to teach, might be set apart for that office by the election of the brethren, and by imposition of their hands; and that, in like manner, by their authority, he might be discharged from that function, and reduced to the rank of a private Christian.

Those who adopted this democratical form of government, which abolished all distinction of ranks in the church, and conferred an equal portion of power on each individual, were, from the founder of the sect, denominated Brownists: and, as their te'nets were more hostile to the established religion than those of other separatists, the fiercest storm of persecution fell upon their heads. Many of them were fined or imprisoned, and some were put to death.

Still, the sect not only subsisted, but continued to spread. But, as all their motions were carefully watched, both by the ecclesiastical and civil courts, which, as often as they were detected, punished them with the utmost rigour, a body of them, weary of living in a state of continual danger and alarm, fled to Holland, and settled in Leyden, under the care of Mr. John Robinson their pastor.

There they resided for several years, unmolested and obscure. But, many of their aged members dying, and some of the younger marrying into Dutch families, while their church received no increase, either by recruits from England, or by proselytes gained in the country, they began to be afraid, that all their high attainments in spiritual knowledge would be lost, and that that perfect fabric of policy, which they had erected, would be dissolved, and consigned to oblivion, if they remained longer in a strange land.

At length, after several solemn addresses to Heaven, the younger part of the congregation resolved to remove into some part of America, under the protection of the king of England, where they might enjoy the liberty of their consciences, and be capable of encouraging their friends and countrymen to follow them.

Accordingly, they sent over agents into England, who, having obtained a patent from the crown, agreed with seve ral merchants to become adventurers in the undertaking. Se

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