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seized the booty, which they had been all this while contending for, and carried it off.
The two combatants, who lay and beheld all this, without having strength enough to stir and prevent it, were only wise enough to make this reflection :“ Behold the fruits of our strife and contention! That villain, the Fox bears away the prize; and we ourselves have deprived each other of ihe power to recover it of him.”
When fools quarrel, knaves get the prize of contention.
THE CORAL GROVE.
And the pearl shells spangle the flinty snow;
Their boughs, where the tides and billows flow; The water is calm and still below,
For the winds and waves are absent there, And the sands are bright as the stars that glow
In the motionless fields of upper air ; There with its waving blade of green,
The sea-flag streams through the silent water, And the crimson leaf of the dulse is seen
To blush, like a banner bathed in slaughter: There with a light and easy motion,
The fan-coral sweeps through the clear deep sca And the yellow and scarlet tufts of ocean
Are bending like corn on the upland lea.
Is sporting amid those bowers of stone,
Has made the top of the waves his owu:
Where the myriad voices of ocean roar, When the wind-god frowns in the murky skies,
And demons are waiting the wreck on shore; Then far below in the peaceful sea,
The purple mullet, and gold-fish rove, Where the waters murmur tranquilly,
Through the bending twigs of the coral grove.
SORROW. SORROW is uneasiness in the mind, upon the thought of a good lost, which might have been enjoyed longer; or the sense of a present evil. The sharpest and most melting sorrow is that which arises from the loss of those whom we have loved with tenderness. The safe and general antidote against sorrow is employ
Whoever will keep his thoughts continually busy, will find himself less affected with irretrievable losses.
Sorrow is a kind of rust to the soul, which every new idea contributes to scour away. It is the putrefaction of stagnant life, and is remedied by exercise and motion.
THE VAIN REGRET.
For what saith Time ?
The thoughts now budding in my brain, -
Then what says Time ?
Truths ! -- hardly earned and lately brought
From many a far forgotten scene !
THE WOUNDED HUSSAR. ALONE to the banks of the dark-rolling Danube,
Fair Adelaide hied when the battle was o'er: Oh, whither, she cried, hast thou wander'd, my true love,
Or here dost thou welter and bleed on the shore ? What voice have I heard ? 't was my Henry that sigh’d;
All mournful she hasten'd, nor wander'd she far, When bleeding and low, on the beath, she descried, By the light of the
, her poor wounded Hussar. From his bosom that heaved, the last torrent was streaming,
And pale was his visage, deep mark'd with a scar, And dim was that eye, once expressively beaming,
That melted in love, and chat kindled in war —
How bitter she wept o'er the victim of war!
To cheer the lone heart of thy wounded Hussar ?
Each anguishing wound, shall forbid me to mourn. Ah! no, the last pang in my bosom is heaving;
No light of the morn shall to Henry return :
Ye babes of my love, that await me afar !
When he sank in her arms, the poor wounded Hussar.
NONE ARE COMPLETELY HAPPY. So many and so various are the evils incident to human nature, and so frequently are our greatest earthly comforts dashed with alloys of pain and uneasiness, that no state of life, whether of youth or age, of riches or poverty, of
grandear or meanness, is exempt from difficulties and troubles.
To hope for perfect happiness is vain ;
Even joy has ever its alloys of pain. Since then, an entire and unmixed happiness is not to be expected in our present state, let us not be too sanguine in our wishes to find it here, but place our happiness on things above, and on that state which approaches nearest to it; which is doing our duty in whatever station God has pleased to place us.
THE GARDEN OF EDEN.
Thus was this place