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And the crimson streak on ocean's cheek
Grows into the great sun,
3. Noiselessly as the spring time
Her crown of verdure weaves,
Open their thousand leaves, -
Or voice of them that wept,
The great procession swept.
4. Perchance the bald old eagle,
On gray Bethpeor's height,
Looked on the wondrous sight.
Still shuns that hallowed spot,
That which man knoweth not.
5. But when the warrior dieth,
His comrades in the war,
Follow the funeral car.
They tell his battles won,
While peals the minute gun.
6. Amid the noblest of the land
Men lay the sage to rest,
Where lights like glories fall,
Along the emblazoned wall.
7. This was the bravest warrior
That ever breathed a word;
Traced, with his golden pen,
As he wrote down for men.
8. And had he not high honor ?
The hill side for his pall;
With stars for tapers tall;
Over his bier to wave;
To lay him in the grave;
9. In that deep grave, without a name,
Whence his uncoffined clay
Before the judgment day,
On the hills he never trod,
With the Incarnate 6 Son of God,
10. O lonely tomb in Moab's land,
O dark Bethpeor's hill, Speak to these curious hearts of ours, . And teach them to be still.
God hath his mysteries of grace
Ways that we cannot tell;
Of him he loved so well.
I STALK'ING. Stealthily walking in called the transept. The transept search of prey.
divides the long aisle into two un• MUF'FLED. Having something equal parts, the longer of which
wound round so as to render the is called the nave, and the other sound low or solemn.
the choir. 8 MIN'STER TRĂN'SĚPT. A minster 4 Choir. A band of singers in church
is a monastic or a cathedral church. service; also, the part of a church The ground plan of minsters is where the singers are placed. usually in the form of a cross, with 6 ĚM-BLĀ'ZONĘD. Adorned with arone long aisle and a short one morial ensigns or badges. crossing it. The cross aisle is 6 [N-CÄR'NẠTE. Embodied in flesh.
XLV.-MOTIVES TO INTELLECTUAL ACTION IN
GEORGE S. HILLARD. 1. The motives to intellectual' action press upon us with peculiar force, in our country, because the connection is here so immediate between character and happiness, and because there is nothing between us and ruin, but intelligence which sees the right, and virtue which pursues it, There are such elements of hope and fear, mingled in the great experiment which is here trying, the results are so momentous to humanity, that all the voices of the past and the future seem to blend in one sound of warning and entreaty, addressing itself not only to the general, but ta the individual ear.
2. By the wrecks of shattered states, by the quenched lights of promise that once shone upon man, by the longdeferred hopes of humanity, by all that has been done and suffered in the cause of liberty, by the martyrs that died before the sight, by the exiles whose hearts have been crushed in dumb despair, by the memory of our fathers and their blood in our veins, - it calls upon us, each and all, to be faithful to the trust which God has committed to our hands.
3. That fine natures should here feel their energies palsied by the cold touch of indifference, that they should turn to Westminster Abbey* or the Alps, or the Vatican,t to quicken their flagging pulses, is of all mental anomalies? the most inexplicable. The danger would seem to be rather that the spring of a sensitive mind may be broken by the weight of obligation that rests upon it, and that the stimulant, by its very excess, may become a narcotics.
4. The poet must not plead his delicacy of organization as an excuse for dwelling apart in trim gardens of leisure, and looking at the world only through the loopholes of his retreat. Let him fling himself, with a gallant heart, upon the stirring life, that heaves and foams around him. He must call home his imagination from those spots on which the light of other days has thrown its pensive charm, and be content to dwell among his own people. The future and the present must inspire him, and not the past. He must transfer to his pictures the glow of morning, and not the hues of sunset.
5. He must not go to any foreign Pharpar or Abana i for the sweet influences which he may find in that familiar stream, on whose banks he has played as a child, and inused as a man. Let him dedicate his powers to the best interests of his country. Let him sow the seeds of beauty along that dusty road, where humanity toils and sweats in the sun. Let him spurn the baseness which ministers food to the passions, that blot out in man's soul the image of God. Let not his hands add one seduc. tive charm to the unzoned form of pleasure, nor twine the roses of his genius around the reveller's wine-cup.
* WEST-MIN/STER ÅB'BĘY. A church in London, where there are monuments to many of England's great men. † VAT'J-CĂN. A palace and museum of art in Rome. PHÄR'PAR AND XB'A-NẠ. Names of rivers in Syria. See 2 Kings v. 12.
6. Let him mingle with his verse those grave and high elements befitting him around whom the air of freedom blows, and upon whom the light of heaven shines. Let him teach those stern virtues of self-control"and self-renun. ciation, of faith and patience, of abstinence and fortitude, - which constitute the foundations alike of individual happiness, and of national prosperity. Let him help to rear up this great people to the stature and symmetry of a moral manhood. Let him look abroad upon this young world in hope and not in despondency.
7. Let him not be repelled by the coarse surface of material life. Let him survey it with the piercing insight of genius, and in the reconciling spirit of love. Let him find inspiration wherever man is found;- in the sailor singing at the windlass*; in the roaring flames of the furnace; in the dizzy spindles of the factory; in the regular beat of the thresher's flail; in the smoke of the steamship; in the whistle of the locomotive. Let the mountain wind blow courage into him. Let him pluck, from the stars of his own wintry sky, thoughts, serene as their own light, lofty as their own place. Let the purity of the majestic heavens flow into his soul. Let his genius soar upon the wings of faith, and charm with the beauty of truth.
I ÎN-TEL-LÉCT'Y-ẠL. Mental; rela- 18 NẠR-CÔT'ỊC. A chemical agent proting to the intellect.
ducing sleep or stupor. 2 A-NÕM'A-LỊeş. Irregularities, devi-4 WİND'LASS. A machine for drawing ations from rule.
towards itself heavy burdens.