Was it the chime of a tiny bell,

That came so sweet to my dreaming ear, Like the silvery tones of a fairy's shell

That he winds on the beach, so mellow and clear, When the winds and the waves lie together asleep, And the moon and the fairy are watching the deep,She dispensing her silvery light,

And he, his notes as silvery quite,

While the boatman listens, and ships his oar,
To catch the music that comes from the shore?
Hark! the notes, on my ear that play,

Are set to words:

as they float, they say,

"Passing away! passing away!"

But no; it was not a fairy's shell,

Blown on the beach, so mellow and clear;
Nor was it the tongue of a silver bell,
Striking the hour, that filled my ear,
As I lay in my dream; yet was it a chime
That told of the flow of the stream of time.
For a beautiful clock from the ceiling hung,
And a plump little girl, for a pendulum, swung;
(As you've sometimes seen, in a little ring
That hangs in his cage, a Canary bird swing;)
And she held to her bosom a budding bouquet,
And, as she enjoyed it, she seemed to say,
"Passing away! passing away!"

Oh! how bright were the wheels, that told

Of the lapse of time, as they moved around slow! And the hands, as they swept o'er the dial of gold, Seemed to point to the girl below.

And lo! she had changed: — in a few short hours
Her bouquet had become a garland of flowers,
That she held in her outstretched hands, and flung
This way and that, as she, dancing, swung
In the fulness of grace and womanly pride,
That told me she soon was to be a bride;
Yet then, when expecting her happiest day,
In the same sweet voice I heard her say,
Passing away! passing away!"

While I gazed at that fair one's cheek, a shade
Of thought, or care, stole softly over,

Like that by a cloud in a summer's day made,
Looking down on a field of blossoming clover.
The rose yet lay on her cheek; but its flush
Had something lost of its brilliant blush ;

And the light in her eye, and the light on the wheels,
That marched so calmly around above her,

Was a little dimmed,

Upon noon's hot face:- yet one couldn't but love her, For she looked like a mother, whose first babe lay Rocked on her breast, as she swung all day; And she seemed in the same silver tone to say, "Passing away! passing away!"

While yet I looked, what a change there came!
Her eye was quenched, and her cheek was wan:
Stooping and staffed was her withered frame,
Yet, just as busily, swung she on ;

The garland beneath her had fallen to dust;
The wheels above her were eaten with rust;
The hands, that over the dial swept,

Grew crooked and tarnished, but on they kept;
And still there came that silver tone
From the shrivelled lips of the toothless crone,
(Let me never forget till my dying day
The tone or the burden of her lay,)
"Passing away! passing away!"

EXERCISE LII.

SEASONS OF PRAYER. Henry Ware, Jr.

66

[Solemnity, beauty, sublimity, joy, and pathos, are the predominating emotions in this piece. The "qualities” of voice required in reading it, vary, with the force or delicacy of the "expression,” — from "expulsive orotund” to “ subdued” “pure tone." The pitch inclines low, in the solemn, and high, in the joyous strains; the force is soft, in pathetic, and full, in sublime passages; the "movement” is “lively,” in the expression of joy, and "slow" in that of solemnity. The pauses vary in length, in a correspondent manner. Care must be taken not to overdo the effect of the metre into a chanting style.]

To prayer, to prayer!-for the morning breaks;
And earth in her Maker's smile awakes.
His light is on all below and above,

The light of gladness, and life, and love.
Oh! then, on the breath of this early air,
Send upward the incense of grateful prayer.

To prayer!
- for the glorious sun is gone,
And the gathering darkness of night comes on.
Like a curtain from God's kind hand it flows,
To shade the couch where his children repose.
Then kneel, while the watching stars are bright,
And give your last thoughts to the Guardian of night.

To prayer! for the day that God has blessed
Comes tranquilly on with its welcome rest.
It speaks of creation's early bloom;

It speaks of the Prince who burst the tomb.
Then summon the spirit's exalted powers,
And devote to heaven the hallowed hours.

There are smiles and tears in the mother's eyes,
For her new-born infant beside her lies.
Oh! hour of bliss! when the heart o'erflows
With rapture a mother only knows.

Let it gush forth in words of fervent prayer;
Let it swell up to heaven for her precious care.

There are smiles and tears in that gathering band,
Where the heart is pledged with the trembling hand.
What trying thoughts in her bosom swell,

As the bride bids parents and home farewell!
Kneel down by the side of the tearful fair,
And strengthen the perilous hour with prayer.

Kneel down by the dying sinner's side,
And pray for his soul, through Him who died.
Large drops of anguish are thick on his brow.
Oh! what are earth and its pleasures now?
And what shall assuage his dark despair,
But the penitent cry of humble prayer?

Kneel down at the couch of departing faith,
And hear the last words the believer saith.

He has bidden adieu to his earthly friends;
There is peace in his eye that upward bends;
There is peace in his calm, confiding air;

For his last thoughts are God's, his last words prayer.

The voice of prayer at the sable bier!

A voice to sustain, to soothe, and to cheer.
It commends the spirit to God who gave;
It lifts the thoughts from the cold, dark grave;
It points to the glory where He shall reign
Who whispered, "Thy brother shall rise again."

The voice of prayer in the world of bliss!
But gladder, purer, than rose from this.
The ransomed shout to their glorious King,
Where no sorrow shades the soul as they sing;
But a sinless and joyous song they raise;
And their voice of prayer is eternal praise.

Awake, awake, and gird up thy strength
To join that holy band at length.

To Him who unceasing love displays,

Whom the powers of nature unceasingly praise,
To Him thy heart and thy hours be given;
For a life of prayer is the life of heaven.

EXERCISE LIII.

THE FALL OF NIAGARA. J. G. C. Brainard.

[Sublimity, extending to awe, is the chief characteristic of this piece. The reading is marked by deep" orotund," suppressed by the slightly "aspirated" effect of awe, bordering on fear. The "movement" is “extremely slow ;" and the pauses correspond in length.

The full, sonorous effect of the blank verse, should be freely given, in the utterance.]

THE thoughts are strange that crowd into my brain,
While I look upward to thee. It would seem

As if God poured thee from his "hollow hand,”
And hung his bow upon thine awful front;

And spake in that loud voice, which seemed to him

Who dwelt in Patmos for his Saviour's sake,
"The sound of many waters ;" and had bid
Thy flood to chronicle the ages back,

And notch His centuries in the eternal rock!

Deep calleth unto deep! - And what are we,
That hear the question of that voice sublime?
Oh! what are all the notes that ever rang
From war's vain trumpet, by thy thundering side?
Yea, what is all the riot man can make,
In his short life, to thy unceasing roar?
And yet, bold babbler, what art thou to Him
Who drowned a world, and heaped the waters far
Above its loftiest mountains? a light wave,
That breaks, and whispers of its Maker's might!

EXERCISE LIV.

FERDINAND AND ISABELLA.

Washington Irving.

This extract forms an example of easy, fluent, and graceful narration, intermingled with description and sentiment. It requires, in reading, "pure tone," in the "moderate" form which belongs to "serious" and "animated" style. The utterance is on the "middle pitch,” — the "movement," "moderate.”]

IT has been well observed of Ferdinand and Isabella, that they lived together, not like man and wife, whose estates are in common, under the orders of the husband, but like two monarchs, strictly allied. They had separate claims to sovereignty, in virtue of their separate kingdoms, and held separate councils. Yet they were so happily united by common views, common interests, and a great deference for each other, that this double administration never prevented a unity of purpose and action. All acts of sovereignty were executed in both their names; all public writings subscribed with both their signatures; their likenesses were stamped together on the public coin; and the royal seal displayed the united arms of Castile and Arragon.

Ferdinand possessed a clear and comprehensive genius, and great penetration. He was equable in temper, indefati