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But yet not good enough for such an aim
Ges. It matters not.
(Tell kneels and picks out an arrow, then secretes one in his vest.) Tell. See if the boy is ready. Ver. He is.
Tell. I'm ready, too! – Keep silence, for (To the people.) Heaven's sake! and do not stir, and let me have
- your prayers : and be my witnesses, That if his life's in peril from my hand, 'Tis only for the chance of saving it. Now, friends, for mercy's sake, keep motionless And silent !
(Tell shoots; and a shout of exultation bursts from the crowd.) Ver. (Rushing in with Albert.) Thy boy is safe ; no hair of him
is touched ! Alb. Father, I'm safe! - your Albert 's safe! Dear father, Speak to me! speak to me!
Ver. He cannot, boy! Open his vest, and give him air. (Albert opens his father's vest, and an arrow drops ; Tell starts, fires
his eyes on Albert, and clasps him to his breast.)
Ges. For what
Tell. To kill thee, tyrant, had I slain my boy!
A PSALM OF NIGHT.
1. FADES from the west the farewell light,
Flung backward by the setting sun, And silence deepens as the night
Steals with its solemn shadows on! Gathers the soft, refreshing dew
On spiring grass and floweret stems And lo! the everlasting blue
Is radiant with a thousand gems!
2. Not only doth the voiceful day
Thy loving-kindness, Lord, proclaim But night, with its sublime array
Of worlds, doth magnify thy name! Yea, while adoring seraphim
Before Thee bend the willing knee, From every star a choral hymn
Goes up unceasingly to Thee !
3. Day unto day doth utter speech,
And night to night thy voice makes known; Through all the earth where thought may reach,
Is heard the glad and solemn tone ; And worlds, beyond the farthest star
Whose light hath reached a human eye, Catch the high anthem from afar
That rolls along immensity!
4. O, Holy Father! 'mid the calm
And stillness of this evening hour, We, too, would lift our solemn psalm
To praise thy goodness and thy power! For over us—as over all
Thy tender mercies still extend ; Nor vainly shall the contrite call
On thee, our Father and our Friend !
5. Kept by thy goodness through the day,
Thanksgiving to thy name we pour-
Thy love to guard us evermore!
In darkness, guide - in sickness, cheer-
Before thy throne our souls appear.
1. I CLIMBED the cliff-I crossed the rock
I trod the deserts old -
The Syrian shepherd's fold;
Stretched into distant gray,
The plain of Shinar lay;
Where, long, long ages back,
And wrote their mystic track.
2. Where art thou, gem of the rich earth,
City of far renown —
n? Where lies the lake that, gleaming wide,
Gave back thy hundred towers ?
Thy cedar-shaded bowers ?
Thine ever-flashing river,
Guarding thy walls forever ?
3. There is no voice of gladness here,
No breath of song floats by ;
Is all that makes reply.
Spreads endlessly around,
That strew the broken ground.
Sighs the lone willow bough
Its only music now.
4. Son of Man-dan-e! by whose hand
The doomed city fell,
Climbed tower and citadel :
Thou foundest dance and song,
And many a joyous throng ;
When men were care-bereft
The total thou hast left?
5. O! glorious were her palaces,
And shrines of fretted gold !
The house of Belus old.
Where countless nations thronged,
And mirth to her belonged ;
Even in her festal halls,
Upon the palace walls.
6. At midnight came the Persian,
Mingling amid the crowd ;
He heeded not the beautiful,
He stayed not for the proud :
Heedless her gods of stone,
He passed — and she was gone!
Memorial she hath none;
But never Babylon !
A SICILIAN VILLA.
1. The villa of Prince Batera, about a mile from Palermo, is one of the loveliest spots I ever saw. The garden is laid out on the English plan; the walks are adorned with statues and groups of statuary, fountains, grottos, &c.
2. One fountain is adorned with a group of figures in white marble, representing a rural scene. Pan, the god of shepherds and of rustics, sits in the midst upon a stump; a child is milking a goat, and catching the milk in a goblet, while around stand boys and girls drinking.
3. The nursery in this garden contains some choice plants. The coffee plant is here seen growing luxuriantly; the hot-house plants of England here grow in the open air. This princely residence is occupied only by strangers, who hire it, with its grounds, by the year or six months.
4. We found more amusement at the villa of Serra di Falco. We entered the garden by an archway passing under the palace. On walking through the paths, we soon found ourselves in a maze so intricate, that the more we tried to find our way back, the more lost did we become.
5. The keeper of the garden had purposely led us there,