CLASSIC SELECTIONS.

VIII.

HE mountains look on Marathon,

THE

And Marathon looks on the sea;

And musing there an hour alone,

I dreamed that Greece might still be free;
For, standing on the Persians' grave,
I could not deem myself a slave.

21

Byron.

O TRUSTED and trustworthy guard, if thou hadst life like me,
What pleasures would thy toils reward beneath the deep-green sea!

FLAG of the free heart's hope and home!

By angel hands to valor given;

Thy stars have lit the welkin dome,

And all thy hues were born in heaven.
Forever float that standard sheet!

Ferguson.

Where breathes the foe but falls before us,

With Freedom's soil beneath our feet,

And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us?

Drake.

CLIME of the unforgotten brave,

Whose land from plain to mountain-cave

Was Freedom's home or Glory's grave,
Shrine of the mighty, can it be

That this is all remains of thee?

Byron.

HURRAH! hurrah! a single field hath turned the chance of war! Hurrah! hurrah! for Ivry and King Henry of Navarre!

"MAKE way for liberty," he cried,
Then ran with arms extended wide,
As if his dearest friend to clasp;

Ten spears he swept within nis grasp.
“Make way for liberty!" he cried;
Their keen points met from side to side
He bowed amongst them like a tree,
And thus made way for liberty.

Macaulay

Montgomery

THE waves were white, and red the morn,
In the noisy hour when I was born;

And the whale it whistled, the porpoise rolled,
The dolphins bared their backs of gold;
And never was heard such an outcry wild

As welcomed to life the ocean child!

THE Coldest gazer's heart grew warm,
And felt no more its indecision;
For every soul which saw that form

Grew larger to contain the vision.
"Him have I seen," the boy exclaimed;
"Yes, him! what needs he to be named?
The world has only one broad sun,
And Freedom's world but Washington!"

Cormoals.

LEAP out, leap out, my masters; leap out and lay on load!
Let's forge a goodly anchor, a bower, thick and broad!

THEY fell devoted, but undying;

The very gale their names seemed sighing;
The waters murmured of their name;
The woods were peopled with their fame;
The silent pillar, lone and gray,

Claimed kindred with their sacred clay.
Their spirits wrapped the dusky mountain,
Their memory sparkled o'er the fountain.
The meanest rill, the mightiest river,
Rolled mingling with their fame forever.
Lespite of every yoke she bears,
The land is glory's still, and theirs;
"Tis still a watchword to the earth:
When man would do a deed of worth,
He points to Greece, and turns to tread,
So sanctioned, on the tyrant's head;
He looks to her, and rushes on
Where life is lost, or freedom won.

Reed.

Ferguson.

Byron

CLASSIC SELECTIONS.

HURRAH for the sea! the all-glorious sea!

Its might is so wondrous, its spirit so free!

And its billows beat time to each pulse of my soul,
Which, impatient, like them, cannot yield to control.

ADIEU, adieu! my native shore
Fades o'er the waters blue;

The night-winds sigh. the breakers roar,

And shrieks the wild sea-mew.

Yon sun that sets upon the sea

We follow in his flight;

Farewell awhile to him and thee,

My native land-Good Night!

O CALEDONIA! stern and wild,
Meet nurse for a poetic child!

Land of brown heath and shaggy wood,
Land of the mountain and the flood,

Land of my sires! what mortal hand
Can e'er untie the filial band

That knits me to my rugged strand?

L

IX.

IKE to the falling of a star,

Or as the flights of eagles are,

Or like the fresh spring's gaudy hue,

Or silver drops of morning dew,
Or like a wind that chafes the flood,
Or bubbles which on water stood, -
Even such is man, whose borrowed light
Is straight called in and paid to-night:
The wind blows out, the bubble dies;
The spring entombed in autumn lies;
The dew 's dried up, the star is shot,
The flight is past, and man forgot!

Byron.

Scott.

23

Beaumont,

It is not work that kills men; it is worry. Work is healthy; you can hardly put more upon a man than he can bear. Worry is rust upon the blade. It is not the revolution that destroys the machinery, but the friction.

Beecher.

If you did know to whom I gave the ring,
If you did know for whom I gave the ring,
And would conceive for what I gave the ring,
And how unwillingly I left the ring,

When naught would be accepted but the ring,
You would abate the strength of your displeasure.
Por. If you had known the virtue of the ring,
Or half her worthiness that gave the ring,
Or your own honor to contain the ring,

You would not ther. have parted with the ring.

Merchant of Venice.

AH yes, I will say again: The great silent men! Looking round on the noisy inanity of the world, words with little meaning, actions with little truth, one loves to reflect on the great Empire of Silence. The noble silent men, scattered here and there, each in his department; silently thinking, silently working; whom no Morning Newspaper makes mention of. They are the salt of the Earth. A country that has none or few of these is in a bad way. Like a forest which had no roots; which had all turned into leaves and boughs; which must soon wither and be no forest. Woe for us if we had rothing but what we

can show or speak.

Carlyle.

O FOR boyhood's time of June,

Crowding years in one brief moon,
When all things I heard or saw.
Me, their master, waited for.
I was rich in flowers and trees,
Humming-birds and honey-bees;
For my sport the squirrel played;
Plied the snouted mole his spade;
For my taste the blackberry cone
Purpled over hedge and stone;
Laughed the brook for my delight
Through the day and through the nigh
Whispering at the garden wall,
Talked with me from fall to fall;
Mine the sand-rimmed pickerel pond;
Mine the walnut slopes beyond;

CLASSIC SELECTIONS.

Mine, on bending orchard trees,
Apples of Hesperides!

Still, as my horizon grew,
Larger grew my riches, too;

All the world I saw or knew
Seemed a complex Chinese toy,
Fashioned for a barefoot boy!

25

Whittier.

BUT indeed Conviction, were it never so excellent, is worthless till it convert itself into Conduct. Nay, properly, Conviction is not possible till then, inasmuch as all speculation is by nature endless, formless, a vortex amid vortices: only by a felt indubitable certainty of Experience docs it find any centre to revolve round. Most true is it, that "Doubt

of any sort cannot be removed except by Action."

X.

Carlyle.

BOOKS are the true levellers. They give to all who faithfully use

race.

them the society, the presence of the best and greatest of our

THOUGHT is deeper than all speech,

Feeling deeper than all thought;

Souls to souls can never teach

What unto themselves was taught.

Cranch.

It matters very little what immediate spot may have been the birthplace of such a man as Washington. No people can claim, no country can appropriate him. The boon of Providence to the human race, his fame is eternity and his dwelling-place creation.

ONCE more: speak clearly, if you speak at all;

Carve every word before you let it fall:
Don't, like a lecturer or dramatic star,

Everett

Try over hard to roll the British R;

Do put your accents in the proper spot;

Don't let me beg you --don't say “ How?" for "What?"
And when you stick on conversation's burs,

Don't strew the pathway with those dreadful urs.

Holmes.