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Your prayers

But yet not good enough for such an aim
As I’m to take. ”T is heavy in the shaft :
I'll not shoot with it! (Throws it away.) Let me see my quiver.
Bring it! 't is not one arrow in a dozen
I'd take to shoot with at a dove, much less
A dove like that ! - What is 't you fear? I'm but
A naked man, a wretched naked man!
Your helpless thrall, alone in the midst of you,
With every one of you a weapon in
His hand. What can I do in such a strait
With all the arrows in that quiver ? - Come,
Will you give it me or not?

Ges. It matters not.
Show him the quiver.

(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.)
Tell. My boy! my boy!

Ges. For what
Hid you that arrow in your breast? Speak, slave!

Tell. To kill thee, tyrant, had I slain my boy!
Would, at thy downfall, shout from every peak!
My country then were free!



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!

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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-
Night o'er us, with its stars — we pray

Thy love to guard us evermore!
In grief, console -in gladness, bless

In darkness, guide - in sickness, cheer-
Till, in the Saviour's righteousness,

Before thy throne our souls appear.



1. I CLIMBED the cliff-I crossed the rock

I trod the deserts old -
I passed the wild Arabian tents,

The Syrian shepherd's fold;
Behind me far are haunts of men

Stretched into distant gray,
When spread before me, lone and wide,

The plain of Shinar lay;
The boundless plain of far Linjar,

Where, long, long ages back,
Abdallah read the silent stars,

And wrote their mystic track.

2. Where art thou, gem of the rich earth,

City of far renown —
The glory of the proud Chaldee,
The green earth's ancient crown

n? Where lies the lake that, gleaming wide,

Gave back thy hundred towers ?
Where are thy gardens of delight-

Thy cedar-shaded bowers ?
Where, where—0, where rolls rapidly

Thine ever-flashing river,
Past marble gates and columned tower,

Guarding thy walls forever ?

3. There is no voice of gladness here,

No breath of song floats by ;
I hearken, but the moaning wind

Is all that makes reply.
Solemn and lone the silent marsh

Spreads endlessly around,
And shapeless are the ruined heaps

That strew the broken ground.
Sadly, above huge outlines dim,

Sighs the lone willow bough
The last, last voice of Babylon,

Its only music now.

4. Son of Man-dan-e! by whose hand

The doomed city fell,
The swift feet of whose soldiery

Climbed tower and citadel :
Thou foundest revelry and mirth,

Thou foundest dance and song,
Thou foundest many a banquet fair,

And many a joyous throng ;
Like the death-angel camest thou,

When men were care-bereft
And is this lone, waste wilderness

The total thou hast left?

5. O! glorious were her palaces,

And shrines of fretted gold !
There rose the fane of Merodach,

The house of Belus old.
And busy life was in her streets,

Where countless nations thronged,
Light footsteps glided through her homes,

And mirth to her belonged ;
But prophet voices murmured,

Even in her festal halls,
And angel-fingers wrote her doom

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 :
False was her fated river,

Heedless her gods of stone,
He entered at her open gates,

He passed — and she was gone!
Her place on earth abideth not

Memorial she hath none;
Darkness and ruin thou may'st find,

But never Babylon !



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,

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