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them at large, the young student should come with a mind well fortified in a sound philosophy of morals, and thoroughly grounded in the Christian faith. Weak and inexperienced minds, are prone to be led astray by the plausible and the pleasureable; and it must never be forgotten, that our bad passions and tyrant propensities, are on the side of the scoffer at virtue. In the works of Lord Byron, will be found all that a young libertine should rejoice at, and all that the good man will deplore. To him, however, who has a mind well prepared by Christian Philosophy, and who understands human nature, and looks forward to the mind's ultimate destiny, the works of this author will afford food for much contemplation and serious thinking. But to the vain, the vicious, and the weak in intellect, they will prove a serious stumblingblock, both in their worldly and spiritual progress.

EXTRACTS FROM CHILDE HAROLD.

LXXII. I live not in myself, but I become

Portion of that around me; and to me High mountains are a feeling, but the hum

Of human cities torture; I can see
Nothing to loathe in nature, save to be

A link reluctant in a fleshly chain,
Classed among creatures, when the soul can flee,

And with the sky, the peak, the heaving plain
Of ocean, or the stars; mingle, and not in vain.

LXXIII
And thus I am absorbed, and this is life,

I look upon the peopled desert past,
As on a place of agony and strife;

Where for some sin, to sorrow I was cast, To act and suffer, but remount at last

With a fresh pinion; which I feel to spring,
Though young, yet waxing vigorous, as the blast
Which it would cope with, on delighted wing,
Spurning the clay-cold bonds which round our being cling.

LXXIV.
And when at length, the mind shall be all free

From what it hates in this degraded form, 'Reft of its carnal life, save what shall be

Existent happier in the fly and worm,-
When elements to elements comform,

And dust is as it should be; shall I not
Feel all I see less dazzling, but more warm !

The bodiless thought? the spirit of each spot?
Of which, even now, I share at times the immortal lot?

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Are not the mountains, waves, and skies a part

Of me and of my soul, as I of them? Is not the love of these deep in my heart

With a pure passion ? should I not contemn
All objects, if compared with these; and stem

A tide of suffering, rather than forego
Such feelings for the hard and worldly phlegm

Of those whose eyes are only turned below,
Gazing upon the ground, with thoughts which dare not glow.

LXXXVIII.

Ye stars ! which are the poetry of heaven!

If in your bright leaves we would read the fate Of men and empires :-'tis to be forgiven,

That in our aspirations to be great, Our destinies o'erleap their mortal state,

And claim a kindred with you: for ye are
A beauty and a mystery; and create

In us such love and reverence from afar,
That fortune, fame, power, life, have named themselves a star.

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All heaven and earth are still, though not in sleep,

But breathless as we grow when feeling most; And silent, as we stand in thoughts too deep ;

All heaven and earth are still: from the high host Of stars, to the lulled lake and mountain coast,

All is concentered in a life intense,
Where not a beam, nor air, nor leaf is lost,

But hath a part of being, and a sense
Of that which is of all Creator and defence.

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Then stirs the feeling infinite, so felt

In solitude, where we are LEAST alone;
A truth which through our being then doth melt,

And purifies from self; it is a tone,
The soul and source of music, which makes known

Eternal harmony, and sheds a charm,
Like to the fabled Cytherea's zone,

Binding all things with beauty; 'twould disarm
The spectre death, had he substantial power to harm.

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Not vainly did the early Persian make

His altar the high places and the peak
Of earth, o'er gazing mountains, and thus take

A fit and unwalled temple, there to seek
The spirit in whose honour shrines are weak,

Upreared of human hands. Come and compare
Columns and idol-dwellings, Goth or Greek,

With nature's realms of worship, earth and air,
Nor fix on fond abodes to circumscribe thy prayer !

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The sky is changed and such a change! Oh night,

And storm, and darkness ; ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light

Of a dark eye in woman! Far along,
From peak to peak, the rattling crags among

Leaps the live thunder. Not from one lone cloud, But every mountain now hath found a tongue,

And Jura answers through her misty shroud,
Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud !

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Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean,-roll.

Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain : Man marks the earth with ruin, -his controul

Stops with the shore: upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain

A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, When, for a moment, like a drop of rain,

He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknell’d, uncoffin'd, and unknown.

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His steps are not upon thy paths,-thy fields

Are not a spoil for him,—thou dost arise And shake him from thee: the vile strength he wields

For earth's destruction thou dost all despise, Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies,

And send'st him shivering in thy playful spray,
And howling, to his Gods, where haply lies

His petty hope in some near port or bay,
And dashest him again to eartb :--there let him lay.

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The armaments which thunder-strike the walls

Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake, And monarchs tremble in their capitals,

The oak leviathians, whose huge ribs make
Their clay-creator the vain title take

Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war :
These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake,

They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar
Alike the Armada's pride, or spoils of Trafalgar.

CLXXXII.

Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee,

Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they? Thy waters wasted them while they were free,

And many a tyrant since; their shores obey The stranger, slave or savage; their decay

Has dried up realms to deserts :--not so thou,
Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' play,

Timè writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow,
Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.

CLXXXIII.
Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form

Glasses itself in tempests, in all time,
Calm or convuls’d,-in breeze, or gale, or storm,

Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime
Dark, heaving :-boundless, endless, and sublime,

The image of eternity,—the throne
Of the invisible ; even from out thy slime

The monsters of the deep are made ; each zone
Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless alone.

CLXXXIV.
And I have loved thee, ocean I and my joy

Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be
Borne, like thy bubbles, onward; from a boy

I wantoned with thy breakers,—they to me Were a delight; and if the freshening sea

Made them a terror,-'twas a pleasing fear,
For I was as it were a child of thee,

And trusted to thy billows far and near,
And laid my hand upon thy mane, as I do here.

MANFRED'S ADDRESS TO THE SUN.

Glorious orb ! the idol
Of early nature and the vigorous race
Of undiseased mankind, the giant sons
Of the embrace of angels, with a sex
More beautiful than they, which did draw down
The erring spirits who can ne'er return.
Most glorious orb! that wert a worship, ere
The mystery of thy making was revealed !
Thou earliest minister of the Almighty,
Which gladdened, on their mountain tops, the hearts
Of the Chaldean shepherds, till they poured
Themselves in orisons! Thou material God !
And representative of the Unknown,
Who chose thee for his shadow? Thou chief star!
Centre of many stars! which makest our earth
Endurable, and temperest the hues
And hearts of all who walk within thy rays !
Sire of the seasons ! Monarch of the climes,

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