There, with its waving blade of green,

The sea-flag streams through the silent water,
And the crimson leaf of the dulse is seen

To blush like a banner bathed in slaughter;
There with a light and easy motion

The fan-coral sweeps through the clear deep sea,
And the yellow and scarlet tufts of ocean

Are bending like corn on the upland lea;
And life in rare and beautiful forms

Is sporting amid those bowers of stone,
And is safe when the wrathful spirit of storms
Has made the top of the waves his own :
And when the ship from his fury flies

Where the myriad voices of ocean roar,
When the wind-god frowns in the murky skies,
And demons are waiting the wreck on shore,
Then far below in the peaceful sea

The purple mullet and gold-fish rove,
Where the waters murmur tranquilly

Through the bending twigs of the coral-grove.

PERCIVAL.

LESSON XV.

Roar of the Sea.-ANON.

VOICE of the mighty deep,
Piercing the drowsy night,
Thou scarest the gentle sleep,

Whose pinions will not light

Where thou intrudest busy thought,

With depths dark as thy secrets fraught.

Thy mystic sounds I hear,
Peal of unwonted things;
Of wonders far and near

The hollow music rings,

Its notes borne wild around the world,
Where'er thy dark blue waves are curled.

Oh no, I cannot sleep,

Thou vast and glorious sea!

While thou dost thus the vigil keep

Of thy great majesty,

I think God's image near me is,

In all its awful mysteries.

Thou art a spirit, Ocean, thou!
Giant of earth and air,
Spanning the universe; and now,
While making music here,
Ten thousand leagues afar, thy wave
Is rolling on an empire's grave!

Thine arm that shakes me here,
Thunders upon the shore

Of North, and South, and central sphere,
Fuego, Labrador;

From flaming Equinox to frigid Pole,
Belting the earth thy waters roll.

Engulfing mountains at a sweep
Beneath their angry sway,
Or raising islands from the deep
In their triumphant way,

Or murmuring sweet round Scian isles,
In cadence soft as beauty's smiles.

'Tis midnight!-earth and air.
Are hush'd in lair and rest-
Thy energy from thy long birth
Hath never needed rest:

Thou dost not tire-thou feel'st not toil

Thou art not formed, like me, of soil.

Why dost thou thunder so?

What in thy depths profound,
Thus as a strong man with his foe,
Gives out that angry sound;
On earth no foe can ever be,
Prince of creation, worthy thee!

Age thou hast never known

Thou shalt be young and free, Till God command thee give thine own, And all is dumb save thee; And haply when the sun is blood, Unchanged shall be thy mighty flood.

LESSON XVI.

Salmon River.-BRAINARD.

'Tis a sweet stream; and so, 't is true, are all, That undisturbed, save by the harmless brawl Of mimic rapid or slight waterfall,

Pursue their way

By mossy bank, and darkly waving wood,
By rock, that, since the deluge, fixed has stood,
Showing to sun and moon their crisping flood
By night and day.

But yet there's something in its humble rank,
Something in its pure wave and sloping bank,
Where the deer sported, and the young fawn drank
With unscared look;

There's much in its wild history, that teems
With all that's superstitious, and that seems
To match our fancy and eke out our dreams,
In that small brook.

Havoc has been upon its peaceful plain,

And blood has dropped there, like the drops of rain,
The corn grows o'er the still graves of the slain;
And many a quiver,

Filled from the reeds that grew on yonder hill,
Has spent itself in carnage.

Now 't is still,

And whistling ploughboys oft their runlets fill
From Salmon river.

Here, say old men, the Indian Magi made
Their spells by moonlight; or beneath the shade
That shrouds sequestered rock, or dark'ning glade,
Or tangled dell.

Here Philip came, and Miantonimo,

And asked about their fortunes long ago,

As Saul to Endor, that her witch might show

Old Samuel.

And here the black fox roved, that howled and shook His thick tail to the hunters, by the brook

Where they pursued their game, and him mistook

For earthly fox;

Thinking to shoot him like a shaggy bear,
And his soft peltry, stripped and dressed, to wear,
Or lay a trap, and from his quiet lair
Transfer him to a box.

Such are the tales they tell. "T is hard to rhyme
About a little and unnoticed stream,

That few have heard of; but it is a theme
I chance to love:

And one day I may tune my rye-straw reed,
And whistle to the note of many a deed
Done on this river, which, if there be need,
I'll try to prove.

LESSON XVII.

Time.-MARDON.

I ASKED an Aged Man, a man of cares,
Wrinkled, and curved, and white with hoary hairs:
Time is the warp of life,' he said, 'O tell
The young, the fair, the gay, to weave it well!'

I asked the aged Venerable Dead,

Sages who wrote, and warriors who have bled: From the cold grave a hollow murmur flowed, 'Time sowed the seed we reap in this abode.'

1 asked a Dying Sinner, ere the tide
Of life had left his veins: Time,' he replied-
'I've lost it! Ah, the treasure!' —and he died

I asked the Golden Sun and Silver Spheres,
Those bright Chronometers of days and years:
They answered, 'Time is but a meteor glare,
And bids us for Eternity prepare.'

I asked the Seasons in their annual round,
Which beautify and desolate the ground;
And they replied (no oracle more wise)

"Tis folly's loss, and virtue's highest prize.'

I asked a Spirit Lost; but, oh! the shriek
That pierced my soul! I shudder while I speak.

It cried 'A particle, a speck, a mite
Of endless years, duration infinite!'

Of Things inanimate my dial I
Consulted, and it made me this reply:
'Time is the season fair of living well,
The path of Glory, or the path of Hell.'

I asked my Bible, and methinks it said,
Time is the present hour, the past is fled:
Live! live to-day! To-morrow never yet
On any human being rose or set.'

I asked Old Father Time himself at last;
But in a moment he flew quickly past;

His chariot was a cloud; the viewless wind
His noiseless steeds, which left no trace behind.

I asked the Mighty Angel, who shall stand

One foot on sea, and one on solid land:

By heaven,' he cried,' I swear the mystery 's o'er, Time was!" he cried; but Time shall be no more.'

LESSON XVIII.

Select Sentences and Paragraphs.

Speak truth, or be silent.

Omit no duty, commit no unkindness.

Be courteous, be pitiful; in honor preferring one another. Master your passions or they will master you.

Eat not to dulness; drink not to elevation.

Keep the body perfectly pure, as indicative of the purity of the mind within.

Waste nothing:-neither money, nor time, nor talents. Obey promptly, that you may learn to deserve to command.

Without application, the finest talents are worthless; and with it the humblest are valuable.

Resolve to perform what you ought; perform, without what you resolve.

fail,

Let every thing have its place-let every business have its order.