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Time has laid his hand Upon my heart, gently, not smiting it, But as a harper lays his open palm Upon his harp, to deaden its vibrations.

The Golden Legend, iv. Standing, with reluctant feet,

Where the brook and river meet,

Womanhood and childhood fleet! Maidenhood.

O thou child of many prayers!

Life hath quicksands, — life hath snares! Ibid.

This is the place. Stand still, my steed,

Let me review the scene,
And summon from the shadowy past

The forms that once have been. A Gleam of Sunshine.

The day is done, and the darkness

Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward

From an eagle in his flight. The Day is Done.

A feeling of sadness and longing,

That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only

As the mist resembles the rain. Ibid.

And the night shall be filled with music,

And the cares that infest the day Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,

And as silently steal away. ibid.

She floats upon the river of his thoughts.1

The Spanish Student. Act ii. Sc. 3. This is the forest primeval. Evangeline. Part i.

1 Compare Byron, The Dream. Page 483.

When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of

exquisite music. Evangeline. Part i. 1.

Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels. Part i. 3.

And, as she looked around, she saw how Death, the eonsoler,

Laying his hand upon many a heart, had healed it forever. Part a. 5.

God had sifted three kingdoms to find the wheat for this planting.1 The Courtship of Miles Standish. iv.

Into a world unknown, —the eorner-stone of a nation ! '2

ihid. Saint Augustine! well hast thou said,

That of our viees we can frame A ladder, if we will but tread

Beneath our feet each deed of shame."

The Ladder of St. Augustine.

The heights by great men reached and kept

Were not attained by sudden flight, But they, while their companions slept,

Were toiling upward in the night. lhid.

Sail on, O Ship of State! Sail on, O Union, strong and great! Humanity with all its fears, With all the hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thy fate! The Building of the Ship.

1 God sifted a whole nation that he might send choice grain over into this wilderness. — William Stonghton, Election Sermon at Boston, April 29, 1669.

2 Plymouth Rock.

z Compare Tennyson. Page 551.

Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee,
Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears,
Our faith triumphant o'er our fears,
Are all with thee,—are all with thee!

The Building of the Ship. The leaves of memory seemed to make

A mournful rustling in the dark.

The Fire of Drift-wood.

A banner with the strange device. Excelsior.

There is no flock, however watched and tended,

But one dead lamb is there;
There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended,

But has one vacant chair. Resignation.

The air is full of farewells to the dying,

And mournings for the dead. Ibid.

There is no Death! What seems so is transition;

This life of mortal breath
Is but a suburb of the life elysian,

Whose portal we call Death. Ibid.

In the elder days of Art,

Builders wrought with greatest care Each minute and unseen part;

For the gods see everywhere. The Builders.

Who ne'er his bread in sorrow ate,

Who ne'er the mournful midnight hours

Weeping upon his bed has sate,

He knows you not, ye Heavenly Powers.

From Goethe's Wilhelm Meister.1 Motto, Hyperion, Book i.

I Wer nie sein Brod mit Thranen ass,
Wer nicht die kummervollen Nacbte
Auf seinem Bette weinend sass,
Der kennt euch night, ihr himmlischen MHcIite.

Wilhelm Mtisttr, Book ii. Ch. 13.

Something the heart must have to cherish,

Must love, and joy, and sorrow learn; Something with passion clasp or perish,

And in itself to ashes burn.

From Goethe's Wilhelm Meister. Motto, Hyperion' s

Alas! it is not till time, with reckless hand, has torn out half the leaves from the Book of Human Life to light the fires of passion with, from day to day, that man begins to see that the leaves which remain are few

in number. Hyperion. Soot iv. Cli. 8.

"Hold the fleet angel fast until he bless thee." 1

Kavanagh, adjin.

Hospitality sitting with Gladness.

Frithiof's Saga. (Translation.) With useless endeavour Forever, forever, Is Sisyphus rolling His stone up the mountain!

The Masque of Pandora. Chorus of the Eumenides.

The prayer of Ajax was for light. The Goblet of Life.

O suffering, sad humanity!
O ye afflicted ones, who lie
Steeped to the lips in misery,
Longing, and yet afraid to die,

Patient, though sorely tried! Hid.

He has singed the beard of the king of Spain.2

The Dutch picture.

1 From To-morro>r, Nathaniel Cotton. Compare Genesis xxxiii.

2 Sir Francis Drake entered the harbour of Cadiz, April 19tb, 1587, and destroyed shipping to the amount of ten thousand tons lading. To use his own expressive phrase, he had singed the Spanish king's beard. — Knight's Pictorial History of England, Vol. iii. p. 215.

WILSON. — WHITTIER. — DUFFERIN. 541

MRS. C. B. WILSON. 1846.

What fairy-like music steals over the sea,
Entrancing our senses with charmed melody?

What fairy-like music.

JOHN G. WHITTIER. 1807 —

The hope of all who suffer,
The dread of all who wrong.

The Mantle of St. John de ifatha. Making their lives a prayer.

On receiving a Basket of Sea Mosses. For of all sad words of tongue or pen, The saddest are these: "It might have been!"

Maud Muller. Give lettered pomp to teeth of time,

So Bonny Doon but tarry; Blot out the epic's stately rhyme,

But spare his Highland Mary. Lines on Burns.

LADY DUFFERIN. 1807-1867.

I 'm sitting on the stile, Mary,
Where we sat side by side.

Lament of the Irish Emigrant. I 'm very lonely now, Mary,

For the poor make no new friends; But oh! they love the better still

The few our Father sends Ibid.

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