clouds fretted themselves to atoms; they scattered upon the sky, and were brushed away. The sun threw down a bundle of golden arrows. They fell upon the tree; the ice cakes glittered as they came. Every one was shattered by a shaft, and unlocked itself upon the limb. They were melted and gone Her blessed ministers were

The reign of spring had come. broad in the earth; they hovered in the air; they blended their beautiful tints, and cast a new created glory on the face of the heavens.

The tree was rewarded for her trust. The angel was true to the object of his love. He returned; he bestowed on her another robe. It was bright, glossy and unsullied.* The dust of summer had never lit upon it; the scorching heat had not faded it; the moth had not profaned it. The tree stood again in loveliness; she was dressed in more than her former beauty. She was very fair; joy smiled around her on every side. The birds flew back to her bosom. They sang on every branch a hymn to the Angel of the Leaves.

EIGHTY-FIFTH LESSON.

THE SONG OF THE ANGELS AT BETHLEHEM.-J. Grahame

DEEP was the midnight silence in the fields

Of Bethlehem; hushed the folds; save that at times
Was heard the lambs' faint bleat; the shepherds stretched

On the green sward, surveyed the starry vault.
"The heavens declare the glory of the Lord,

The firmament shows forth thy handiwork ;"
Thus they their hearts attuned to the most High;
When suddenly a splendid cloud appeared,
As if a portion of the milky way

Descended slowly in the spiral course;

Near and more near it draws; then, hovering, floats
High as the soar of eagles, shedding bright

Upon the folded flocks a heavenly radiance.

From whence was uttered loud, yet sweet, a voice:

* Unsullied, not stained.

† Profaned, injured.

"Fear not, I bring good tidings of great joy.
For unto you is born this day a Saviour!
And this shall be a sign to you: the babe
Laid lowly in a manger ye shall find:"
The angel spake, when, lo! upon the cloud,
A multitude of seraphim enthroned,

Sang praises, saying, "glory to the Lord

On high: on earth be peace, good will to men.”
With sweet response* harmoniously they choired ;†
And while with heavenly harmony the song
Arose to God, more bright the buoyant throng
Illumed the land: the prowling lion stops,
Awe-struck, with mane upreared, and flattened head;
And without turning, backward on his steps
Recoils, aghast, into the desert gloom.

A trembling joy the astonished shepherds prove,
As heavenward re-ascends the vocal blaze
Triumphantly; while by degrees the strain
Dies on the ear, that self-deluded, listens,
As if a sound so sweet could never die.

EIGHTY-SIXTH LESSON.

LIFE: AN ALLEGORY.-J. G. Percival.

It is now Morning. Still and glassy lies the lake, within its green and dew-sprent§ shores. Light mist hangs around, like a skiey veil, and only reveals the uncertain outlines of woods and hills. The warm vernal|| air is just stirring in the valleys, but has not yet ruffled the water's mirror. Turn the eye upward -the misty vault opens into the calm, clear heavens, over which there seems suffused¶ a genial** spirit's breath. Far distant on the horizon flash out the gilded and reddening peaks; and from yonder crown of snow, a sudden radiance announces the risen sun. Now in the east stream the golden rays through the soft

*Response, answer.

† Choired, sung in a choir. Recoils, rushes back. Sprent, sprinkled.

Vernal, belonging to spring.
Suffused, overspread.

** Genial, cheerful

blue vapor. The breeze freshens, and comes loaded with fragrance from the woods. A faint, dark curl sweeps over the water; the mist rolls up, lifts itself above meadow and hill, and in gathered folds hangs light around the mountains. Away on the level lake, till it meets the sky, silvery gleams* the sheeted wave, sprinkled with changeful stars, as the ever-rising breeze breaks it in ripples. Now the pennon† that hung loose around the mast rises and fitfully floats. We spread the sail, and, casting off from the shore, glide out with cheerful hearts on our voyage Before us widens the lake; rock after rock receding back on either hand, and opening between, still bays, hung round with sparkling woods, or leading through green meadow vistas to blue sunny hills.

It is now Noon. In the middle lake speeds the bark over light-glancing waves. Dark opens down the clear depth. White toss the crests of foam,-and, as the sail stoops to the steady wind, swift flies the parted water round the prow, and rushing pours behind the stern. The distant shores glow bright in the sun, that alone in the heaven looks unveiled with vivifying goodness over the earth. How high and broad swells the sky! The agitated lake tosses like a wide field of snowy blossoms. Sweep after sweep of the long-retiring shoreshill gleaming over hill, up to the shadowy mountains—and over these Alpine needles, shooting pearly white into the boundiess azure||—all lie still and happy under the ever-smiling sun. And now it is Evening. The sun is sinking behind the dark mountains, and clouds scattered far in the east float soft in rosy light. The sun is now hidden, and strong and wide sweeps up its golden flame, like the holy blaze of a funeral pile. The breeze slackens-the waves subside in slumber-and slowly the bark steers into its sheltering bay. Long shadows stretch from hill to valley-fall like dark curtains on the lake—and a solemn, subdued serenity broods, like a protecting spirit, over the hushed and quiet earth. Only the far summits yet retain their brightness. Faint blushes stain the eternal snows, recalling the

* Gleams, shines with sudden flashes of light.

† Pennon, a small flag.

Vivifying, making alive, animating

Alpine, belonging to the Alps.

Azure, blue color. the sky

first dawning roses, like the memory of early joys in the tran quil moments of departing age. These, too, fade; but the evening star looks bright from the blue infinite, and, like the herald* of a better world, leads us softly to our haven.

EIGHTY-SEVENTH LESSON.

THE CLOUD.-Shelley.

I BRING fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,
From the seas and the streams;

I bear light shade for the leaves when laid
In their noon-day dreams.

From my wings are shaken the dews that waken
The sweet birds every one,

When rocked to rest on their mother's breast,
As she dances about the sun.

I wield the flail of lashing hail,

And whiten the green plains under,

And then again I dissolve it in rain,

And laugh as I pass in thunder.
I sift the snow on the mountains below,
And their great pines groan aghast ;
And all the night 'tis my pillow white,

While I sleep in the arms of the blast.
Sublime on the towers of my skiey bowers,
Lightning my pilot sits;

In a cavern under, is fettered the thunder,
It struggles and howls at fits;

Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion,
This pilot is guiding me,

Lured by the love of the geniif that move
In the depths of the purple sea:

Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills,
Over the lakes and the plains,

Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream,
The spirit he loves remains;

*Herald, a harbinger, forerunner.

1 Genii, imaginary beings of a grade between men and angels.

And I all the while bask in heaven's blue smile,
Whilst he is dissolving in rains.

The sanguine sunrise, with his meteor eyes,
And his burning plumes outspread,

Leaps on the back of my sailing rack,

When the morning star shines dead

As on the jag of a mountain crag,

Which an earthquake rocks and swings,

An eagle alit one moment may sit

In the light of its golden wings.

And when sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath, Its ardors of rest and of love,

And the crimson pall of eve may fall

From the depth of heaven above,

With wings folded I rest, on mine airy nest,
As still as a brooding dove.

That orbed maiden with white fire laden,
Whom mortals call the moon,

Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor,
By the midnight breezes strewn ;
And wherever the beat of her unseen feet,
Which only the angels hear,

May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof,
The stars peep behind her and peer;

And I laugh to see them whirl and flee,
Like a swarm of golden bees,

When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent,
Till the calm rivers, lakes, and seas,
Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high,
Are each paved with the moon and these.
I bind the sun's throne with a burning zone,
And the moon's with a girdle of pearl;

The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim,
When the whirlwinds my banner unfurl.
From cape to cape, with a bridge-like shape,
Over a torrent sea,

Sunbeam proof, I hang like a roof,

The mountains its columns be.