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The prey is mine. They sleep, and never more
Their names shall strike upon the ear of man:
Their memory burst its fetters.
Where is Rome?
She lives but in the tale of other times;
Her proud pavilions are the hermit's home;
And her long colonnades, her public walks,
Now faintly echo to the pilgrim's feet,
Who comes to muse in solitude, and trace,
Through the rank moss reveal'd, her honord dust
But not to Rome alone has fate confined
The doom of ruin; cities numberless-
Tyre, Sidon, Carthage, Babylon, and Troy,
And rich Phænicia,-they are blotted out,
Half-raz'd from memory; and their very name
And being in dispute !
1. God of the year!-With songs of praise,
And hearts of love, we come to bless
Thy bounteous hand; for thou hast shed
Thy manna o'er the wilderness:
In early spring-time thou didst fling
O’er earth its robe of blossoming;
And its sweet treasures, day by day,
Rose quickening in the blessed ray.
2. And now they whiten hill and vale,
And hang from every vine and tree,
Whose pensile branches, bending low,
Seem'd bowed in thankfulness to thee:
The earth, with all its purple isles,
Is answering to the genial smiles ;
And gales of perfume breathe along,
And lift to thee their voiceless song.
3. God of the seasons! Thou hast blest
The land with sunlight and with showers;
And plenty o’er its bosom smiles,
To crown the sweet Autumnal hours :
Praise, praise to thee!-Our hearts expand
To view the blessings of thy hand;
And, on the incense breath of Love
Go off to their bright home above.
Education. 1. ALAS! what differs more than man from man! And whence this difference?-whence but from himself? For, see the universal race, endowed With the same upright form! The sun is fixed, And th’infinite magnificence of heaven, Within the reach of every human eye; The sleepless ocean murmurs in all ears; The vernal field infuses fresh delight Into all hearts. Throughout the world of sense, Even as an object is sublime or fair, That object is laid open to the view Without reserve or veil; and as a power Is salutary, or its influence sweet, Are each and all enabled to perceive That power, that influence, by impartial law.
2. Gifts nobler are vouchsafed alike to all,
Reason,-and, with that reason, smiles and tears,
Imagination, freedom of the will,
Conscience to guide and check, and death
To be foretasted,-immortality presumed.
Strange then, nor less than monstrous might be deemed
The failure, if th’Almighty, to this point
Liberal and undistinguishing, should hide
The excellence of moral qualities
From common understanding, leaving truth
And virtue, difficult, abstruse and dark,
Hard to be won, and only by a few :
Strange, should he deal herein with nice respects,
And frustrate all the rest! Believe it not:
The primal duties shine aloft-like stars;
The charities that soothe, and heal, and bless,
Are scattered at the feet of man-like flowers.
3. The generous inclination, the just rule,
Kind wishes, and good actions, and pure thoughts
No mystery is here; no special boon
For high and not for low-for proudly graced
And not for meek in heart. The smoke ascends
To heaven as lightly from the cottage hearth,
As from the haughty palace. He whose soul
Ponders its true equality, may walk
The fields of earth with gratitude and hope;
Yet in that meditation will he find
Motive to sadder grief, when his thoughts turn
From nature's justice, to the social wrongs
That make such difference betwixt man and man
4. Oh for the coming of that glorious time,
When, prizing knowledge as her noblest wealth
And best protection, this imperial realm,
While she exacts allegiance, shall admit
An obligation on her part, to teach
Those who are born to serve her and obey
Binding herself by statute to secure,
For all the children whom her soil maintains,
The rudiments of Letters, and inform
The mind with moral and religious truih,
Both understood and practised ;-so that none
However destitute, be left to droop,
By timely culture unsustained, or run
Into a wild disorder, or be forced
To drudge through weary life, without the aid · Of intellectual implements and tools,
A savage horde among the civilized,
A servile band among the lordly free!
5. This right-as sacred, almost, as the right
T'exist and be supplied with sustenance
And means of life-the lisping babe proclaims
To be inherent in him by Heaven's will,
For the protection of his innocence;
And the rude boy who knits his angry brow,
And lifts his wilful hand on mischief bent,
Or turns the sacred faculty of speech
To impious use, by process indirect
Declares his due, while he makes known his need.
6. This sacred right is fruitlessly announcedThis universal plea in vain addressedTo eyes and ears of parents, who themselves Did, in the time of their necessity, Urge it in vain ; and, therefore, like a prayer That from the humblest floor ascends to heaven, It mounts to reach the State's parental ear; Who, if indeed she own a mother's heart, And be not most unfeelingly devoid Of gratitude to Providence, will grant Th’ unquestionable good.
7. The discipline of slavery is unknown Among us,-hence the more do we require
The discipline of virtue: order else
Cannot subsist, nor confidence, nor peace.
Thus, duties rising out of good possessed,
And prudent caution, needful to avert
Impending evil, do alike require
That permanent provision should be made
For the whole people to be taught and trained :-
So shall licentiousness and black resolve
Be rooted out, and virtuous habits take
Their place; and genuine piety descend,
Like an inheritance, from age to age. Wordsworth. ,
Address to Liberty.
1. O could I worship aught beneath the skies
That earth hath seen, or fancy could devise,
Thine altar, sacred Liberty should stand,
Built by no mercenary vulgar hand,
With fragrant turf, and flowers as wild and fair,
As ever dressed a bank, or scented summer air.
2. Duly, as ever on the mountain's height,
The peep of morning shed a dawning light;
Again, when evening in her sober vest
Drew the grey curtain of the fading west,
My soul should yield thee willing thanks and praise,
For the chief blessings of my fairest days.
But that were sacrilege: praise is not thine,
But his who gave thee, and preserves thee mine :
Else I would say,-and, as I spake, bid fly
A captive bird into the boundless sky,-
This rising realm adores thee; thou art come
From Sparta hither, and art here at home:
We feel thy force still active; at this hour
Enjoy immunity from priestly power ;
While conscience, happier than in ancient years,
Owns no superior but the God she fears.
3. Propitious Spirit ! yet expunge a wrong, Thy rights have suffered, and our land, too long; : Teach mercy to ten thousand hearts that share
The fears and hopes of a commercial care :
Prisons expect the wicked, and were built
To bind the lawless, and to punish guilt ; :
But shipwreck, earthquake, battle, fire, and flood,
Are mighty mischiefs, not to be withstood;
And honest merit stands on slippery ground,
Where covert guile, and artifice abound.
Let just restraint, for public peace designed,
Chain up the wolves and tigers of mankind;-
The foe of virtue has no claim to thee;
But let insolvent innocence go free.
“ All things are of God.”
1. Thou art, O God, the life and light
Of all this wondrous world we see; .
Its glow by day, its smile by night,
Are but reflections caught from thee:
Where'er we turn, thy glories shine,
And all things fair and bright are thine.
2. When day with farewell beam delays,
Among the opening clouds of even,
And we can almost think we gaze
Through opening vistas into heaven ;-
Those hues that make the sun's decline
So soft, so radiant, Lord, are thine.
3. When night, with wings of starry gloom,
O'ershadows all the earth and skies,
Like some dark, beauteous bird, whose plume
Is sparkling with unnumber'd eyes ;-
That sacred gloom, those fires divine,
So grand, so countless, Lord, are thine.
4. When youthful Spring around us breathes,
Thy spirit warms her fragrant sigh;
And ev'ry flower that Summer wreaths
Is born beneath thy kindling eye:-
Where'er we turn thy, glories shine,
And all things fair and bright are thine.
The hour of Prayer.
1. CHILD, amidst the flowers at play,
While the red light fades away;
Mother, with thine earnest eye,
Ever foll'wing silently;
Father, by the breeze of eve,