« AnteriorContinuar »
That to the fringed bank with myrtle crown'd
ON THE LOSS OF PROFESSOR FISHER,
The breath of air that stirs the harp's soft string,
Floats on to join the whirlwind and the storm ; The drops of dew exhaled from flowers of spring,
Rise and assume the tempest's threatening form; The first mild beam of morning's glorious sun,
Ere night, is sporting in the lightning's flash;
Moves but to aid the overwhelming dash
So science whisper'd in thy charmed ear,
And radiant learning beckon’d thee away.
Beam of thy morning promised a bright day.
Where storms are hush'd, where tempests never rage ; Where angry skies and blackening seas, no more
With gusty strength their roaring warfare wage.
THE WORLD DANGEROUS.
THE WORLD DANGEROUS TO VIRTUE.
VIRTUE, forever frail and fair below,
FORWARDNESS. Nothing, perhaps, is more unbecoming to young persons than the assumption of consequence before men of age, wisdom, and experience. The advice, therefore, of Parmenio, the Grecian General, to his son, was worthy of him to give, and worthy of every man of sense to adopt; “ My son,” says he,“ would you be great, you must be less."
The modest deportment of really wise men, when contrasted to the assuming air of the young and ignorant, may be compared to the different appearances of wheat, which, while its ear is empty, bolds up its head proudly, but as it is filled with grain, bends modestly down, and withdraws from observation.
Much musing on the track of terror past,
When o'er the dark wave rode the howling blast,
Of evening smiles on the gray battlement,
And yon forsaken tower that time has rent!
Soothed by the scene e'en thus ou sorrow's breast
A kindred stillness steals, and bids her rest ;
Like melodies that mourn upon the lyre,
THE EVENING CLOUD. A CLOUD lay cradled near the setting sun, A gleam of crimson tinged its braided snow: Long had I watched the glory moving on O’er the still radiance of the lake below. Tranquil its spirit seem'd, and floated slow! Even in its very motion there was rest : While every breath of eve that chanced to blow, Wasted the traveller to the beauteous west. Emblem, methought, of the departed soul ! To whose white robe the gleam of bliss is given; And by the breath of mercy made to roll Right onwards to the golden gates of Heaven, Where, to the eye of Faith, it peaceful lies, And tells to man his glorious destinies.
Where, far from cities, I may spend my days,
May pity man's pursuits, and shun his ways. While on the rock I mark the browsing goat,
List to the mountain-torrent's distant noise,
I shall not want the world's delusive joys !
Shall think my lot complete, nor covet more;
I'll raise my pillow on the desert shore,
CHANGES OF THE YEAR.
A YEAR of changes has brought us to that epoch, which, as we mark it down in our tablets, emphatically reminds
" What shadows we are, and what shadows we pursue.” The “ happy new year season, as it is of pleasure and felicitation, celebrated with festival and song, is yet a striking and solemn memento; and he must be dull, indeed, who can write, for the first time, the number that designates it without a passing touch at least, of serious emotion. It reminds him how far he is gone up, on the scale of the dread century's progress; what a floating atom he is upon the tide of passing ages; and how soon the frail records of time, which he strews like leaves upon the dark wave, will be swallowed up forever. It is a memento of change, of instability, of uncertainty; of weary labors, of unsatisfying pursuits, of social bereavements, of a world whose fashion passeth away. Let it be true that it is a memento of other things; our present design and mood lead us to say, that it is a memento of these.
As we gather up the confused impressions of the past, as the great scene of worldly toil, and turmoil, and vicissitude passes in review before us; as we meditate
many things, the many events, which seem as if they revolved in eternal circles, tending to nothing and producing nothing, we are ready to exclaim with the ancient preacher, "all things are full of labor; man cannot utter it. The sun ariseth, and the sun goeth down, and hasteth to his place where he rose. The wind goeth toward the south, and turneth about unto the north ; it whirleth about continually :