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youth had not been wasted in idleness, nor overcast by intemperance. He had been all his life a close and deep reader, as well as thinker; and, by the force of his own powers, had wrought up the raw materials, which he had gathered from books, with such exquisite skill and felicity, that he had added a hundred-fold to their original value, and justly made them his own.— Wm. Wirt.
3. Tributes To His Memory. — Brave, benevolent, wonderful old man! Well did our Congress declare of him, in the resolutions adopted on his death, on motion of James Madison, that "his native genius was not more an ornament to human nature, than his various exertions of it have been precious to science, to freedom, and to his country." Well, too, was it said by that matchless French orator, Mirabeau, in announcing the event to the National Assembly of France, which went into mourning on the occasion, that "antiquity would have raised altars to this mighty genius, who, to the advantage of mankind, compassing in his mind the heavens and the earth, was able to restrain alike thunderbolts and tyrants." — R. C. Winthrop.
CLVI. — A STORM ON THE MOUNTAINS.
1. The sky is changed ! —and such a change! 0, night,
Of a dark eye in woman! far along,
2. And this is in the night:— Most glorious night!
A sharer in thy fierce and far delight,—
3. The morn is up again, the dewy morn,
With breath all incense, and with cheek all bloom,
And glowing into day: we may resume The march of our existence: and thus I, Still on thy shores, fair Leman! may find room And food for meditation, nor pass by Much that may give us pause, if pondered fittingly.'
CLVII. — A WISHED-FOR RETREAT.
1. Give me, 0, indulgent Fate,
A sweet but absolute retreat,—
2. No intruders thither come,
Who visit but to be from home,—
3. Courteous Fate! afford me there
With what the neighboring fields impart, Whose cleanliness be all its art. — Fruits, indeed (would Heaven bestow), All that did in Eden grow (All but the forbidden tree) Would be coveted by me; — Grapes, with juice so crowded up, As breaking through their native cup;Cherries, with the downy peach,—
All within my easy reach!
Whilst, creeping near the humble ground, Should the strawberry be found, Springing wheresoe'er I strayed, Through those windings and that shade!
4. Give me there (since Heaven has shown
Slighting, by my humble side,
5. Let me, then, indulgent Fate!
Or aims that may contention breed,
Nor be my endeavors led By goods that perish with the dead!Fitly might the life of man Be, indeed, esteemed a span, If the present moment were
Of delight his only share;
If no other joys he knew Than what round about him grew: —
6. But, — as those who stars would trace
7. Give me, then, in that retreat, —
On that more extensive joy,
•This i-dy, whose maiden name -vas Anne Ringsmill, died in 1720. Sh« ns the friend of Pope, who complimented her highly in some of his verses Vordsworth says of her, that she is " one of the very few original observer! f nature who appeared in an artificial age."
From those windings and that
COUNTESS OF WTOCHELSKA.'
1. John Littlejohn was stanch and strong,
2. John Littlejohn was firm and true,
You could not cheat him in " two and two ;"
3. John Littlejohn maintained the right,
Dosed him with arguments, learned by rote,
4. When told that kings had a right divine,
That the poor were unimproved by school,
5. When told that events might justify
That a decent hope of future good
Might excuse departure from rectitude,
That a lie, if white, was a small offence.
To be forgiven by men of sense,
"Nay, nay," said John, with a sigh and frown,
"The coin is spurious, nail it down." Mackat.
CLIX.—POETRY OF fflE SEASONS.
1. Sunrise In Summer. - Thomson.
But yonder comes the powerful king of day,
Rejoicing in the east. The lessening cloud,
The kindling azure, and the mountain's brow
Illumed with fluid gold, his near approach
Betoken glad. Lo! now apparent all,
Aslant the dew-bright earth and colored air
He looks in boundless majesty abroad,
And sheds the shining day, that burnished plays
On rocks, and hills, and towers, and wandering streams,
High gleaming from afar! Prime cheerer Light! ,
Of all material beings first and best!
Efflux divine! Nature's resplendent robe!
Without whose vesting beauty all were wrapt
In unessential gloom; and thou, 0 Sun!
Soul of surrounding worlds! in whom best seen
Shines out thy Maker! May I sing of thee?
2. Welcome Of The Birds.—Holmes.
Now bursts the song from every leafy glade,
3. To The Flowers.—Horace Smith.
Day-stars! that ope your frownless eyes, to twinkle
From rainbow galaxies'" of earth's creation,
Your voiceless lips, O flowers! are living preachers,
Each cup a pulpit and each leaf a book, Supplying to my fancy numerous teachers From loneliest nook!
1 Thou wast not, Solomon, in all thy glory
Arrayed," the lilies cry, "in robes like ours! How vain your grandeur! Ah, how transitory Are human flowers!"