It can not lay its hands on these, no more Ges. But it can make thee writhe. Tell. It may. Ges. And groan. Tell. It may; and I may cry, Go on, though it should make me groan again. Ges. Whence comest thou? Tell. From the mountains. Wouldst thou learn What news from them? Ges. Canst tell me any? Tell. Ay: They watch no more the avalanche. Ges. Why so? Tell. Because they look for thee. The hurricane Comes unawares upon them; from its bed The torrent breaks, and finds them in its track. Ges. What do they then? Tell. Thank Heaven it is not thou! Thou hast perverted nature in them. The earth While those they have, they see grow up and flourish, As they were things a deadly plague had smit. Ges. That's right! I'd have them like their hills, That never smile, though wanton summer tempt Them e'er so much. Tell. But they do sometimes smile. BE Tell. Ay, and expect it, too. Tell. And the true hands EXERCISE CLXXXVIII. AN A' CRE ON is the name of a Greek poet that flourished about five hundred and fifty years before Christ. He was born at Teos, a city on the coast of Ionia, in Asia Minor. We know little about his personal history; but his character-that of a vain voluptuary-is sufficiently shown in his writings. Yet his poems discover a grace, delicacy, and general finish, that might well adorn a far better character in the writer, and far higher themes than those on which he has written. The following is a fair specimen of his style, so far as it is susceptible of an English dress. CUPID'S ADVENTURE. I. ANACREON (translated by MOORE*). 'Twas noon of night, when round the pole The sullen Bear is seen to roll; And mortals, wearied with the day, *See Exercise CXXV II. "And who art thou," I waking cry, III. I hear the baby's tale of woe; IV. I take him in, and fondly raise The dying embers' cheering blaze; Press from his dank and clinging hair His little fingers thrilling cold. V. "I pray thee," said the wanton child, (My bosom trembled as he smiled,) "I pray thee let me try my bow; For through the rain I've wandered so, That much I fear the ceaseless shower Has injured its elastic power." Oh! teach me who is God, and where His glories shine, That I may kneel and pray, and call thy Father mine II. Gaze on that arch above; The glittering vault admire. Who taught those orbs to move? Who lit their ceaseless fire? Who guides the moon to run There view immensity! behold! my God is there; III. See where the mountains rise; Through all her wildest dells, His footsteps I pursue; He reared those giant cliffs, supplies that dashing stream, Provides the daily food which stills the wild bird's scream. IV. Look on that world of waves, Tempest and calms obey the same almighty voice V. No human thoughts can soar That God is everywhere: The viewless Spirit! He-immortal, holy, blest: |