So now I think my time is near. I trust it is. I know And say to Robin a kind word, and tell him not to fret; There's many a worthier than I would make him happy yet. If I had lived—I cannot tell—I might have been his wife; But all those things have ceased to be, with my desire of life. O look! the sun begins to rise, the heavens are in a glow; He shines upon a hundred fields, and all of them I know. And there I move no longer now, and there his light may shine Wild flowers in the valley for other hands than mine. O sweet and strange it seems to me, that ere this day is done, The voice, that now is speaking, may be beyond the sun For ever and for ever with those just souls and true— And what is life, that we should moan? why make we such ado ? For ever and for ever, all in a blessed home And there to wait a while till you and Effie comeTo lie within the light of God, as I lie upon your breast And the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest. A. TENNYSON. AUDUBON, 1780-1851. [Audubon was a famous naturalist, and is the authority on American birds, to the study of which he devoted nearly the whole of his life.] I was awakened by the increasing violence of the gale. At times it sank into low wailings, and then would swell again, howling and whistling through the trees. I again threw myself upon my pallet of dried grass, but could not sleep. There was something dismal and thrilling in its sound. At times, wild voices seemed shrieking through the woodland. I gazed around in every direction, and sat with my hand on my gun-trigger, for my feelings were so wrought up, that I momentarily expected to see an armed Indian start from behind each bush. At last I rose up and sat by the fire. Suddenly, a swift gust swept through the grove, and whirled off sparks and cinders in every direction. In an instant fifty little fires shot their forked tongues in the air, and seemed to flicker with a momentary struggle for existence. There was scarcely time to note their birth before they were creeping up in a tall tapering blaze, and leaping lightly along the tops of the scattered clumps of dry grass. In another moment they leaped forward into the prairie, and a waving line of brilliant flame quivered high up in the dark atmosphere. Another furious blast came rushing along the ravine, and reached the flaming prairie. Myriads and myriads of bright embers were flung wildly into the air: flakes of blazing grass whirled like meteors through the sky. The flame spread into a vast sheet that swept over the prairie, bending forward, illumining the black waste which it had passed, and shedding a red light far down the deep vistas of the forest, though all beyond the blaze was of a pitchy blackness. The roaring flames drowned even the howling of the wind, and rushed on with a race-horse speed. The noise sounded like the roar of a stormy ocean, and the wild tumultuous billows of the flames were tossed about like a sea of fire. Directly in their course, and some distance out in the prairie, stood a large grove of oaks-the dry leaves still clinging to the branches. There was a red glare thrown upon them from the blazing flood. A moment passed, and a black smoke oozed from the nearest tree-the blaze roared among their branches, and shot up for one hundred feet in the air, waving as if in triumph. The effect was transient. In a moment had the fire swept through a grove covering several acres. It sank again into the prairie, leaving the limbs of every tree scathed and scorched to an inky blackness, and shining with a bright crimson light between their branches. In this way the conflagration swept over the landscape: and every hill seemed to burn its own funeral pyre. For several hours the blaze continued to rage, and the whole horizon became girdled with a belt of living fire. As the circle extended, the flames appeared smaller and smaller, until they looked like a slight golden thread drawn around the hills. They then must have been ten miles distant. At length the blaze disappeared, although the purple light, that for hours illumined the night sky, told that the element was extending into other regions of the prairies. It was sunrise when I rose from my resting-place and resumed my journey. What a change! All was waste. The sun had set upon a prairie still clothed in its natural garb of herbage. It rose upon a scene of desolation. Not a single weed-not a blade of grass was left. The tall grove, which at sun-set was covered with withered foliage, now spread a labyrinth of scorched and naked branches-the very type of ruin. The wind was still raging; cinders and ashes were drifting and whirling about in almost suffocating clouds; sometimes rendering it impossible to see for more than one or two hundred yards.-AUDUBON. HOME AND CLASS WORK. Learn the spellings and meanings at the top of the page; and write sentences containing these words. Men point at me as smitten by God's frown; Yet I am not cast down. I am weak, yet strong; O merciful One! When men are farthest, then Thou art most near; When friends pass by, and my weakness shun, Thy chariot I hear. Thy glorious face Is leaning towards me; and its holy light On my bended knee I recognise thy purpose, clearly shown; Thyself,-Thyself alone! O! I seem to stand may see Trembling, where foot of mortal ne'er hath been, Wrapp'd in the radiance of thy sinless land, Which eye hath never seen. |