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Save when his mate from the tempest's shocks
Protects her young in the splinter'd rocks.

2. Birds of the sea, they rejoice in storms;

On the top of the wave you may see their forms
They run and dive, and they whirl and fly,
Where the glittering foam-spray breaks on high;
And against' the force of the strongest gale,
Like phantom' ships, they soar and sail.

3. All over the ocean, far from land,
When the storm-king rises, dark and grand,
The mariner sees the petrel meet
The fathomless waves with steady feet,
And a tireless wing and a dauntless breast,
Without a home or a hope of rest.

4. So, mid the contest and toil of life,

My soul, when the billōws of rage and strife
Are tossing high, and the heavenly blue
Is shrouded by vapors of somber hue-
Like the petrel, wheeling o'er foam and spray,
Onward and upward pursue thy way!

PARK BENJAMIN.

31. THE FALCON.

1. THE falcon' is a noble bird,

THE

And when his heart of hearts is étirr'd,

He'll seek the eagle, though he run

Into his chamber near the sun.

Never was there brute or bird,

Whom the woods or mountains heard,

That could force a fear or care

From him, the Ar'ab of the air!

Against (a gånst').- Phån' tom, apparition; a fancied vision.· Mår'i ner, seaman; sailor.- Fåth' om less that can not be fathomed, or sounded.-Falcon (fâ' kn).

2. To-day he sits upon a wrist,

Whose purple veins a queen has kiss'd,
And on him falls a sterner eye

Than he could face where'er he fly,
Though he scale the summit cold
Of the Grimsel,' vast and old—
Though he search yon sunless stream,
That threads the forest like a dream

3. Ah! noble soldier! noble bird!
Will your names be ever heard
Ever seen in future story,

Crowning it with deathless glory?

Peace, ho! the master's' eye is drawn
Away unto the bursting dawn!

Arise, thou bird of birds, arise,
And seek thy quarry' in the skies!

PROCTER

32. THE SKYLARK.

1. Besome

IRD of the wilderness,

Blithesome and cumberless,

Sweet be thy matin o'er moorland and lea'
Emblem of happiness,

Blest is thy dwelling-place—

Oh, to abide in the desert with thee!

2. Wild is thy lay, and loud,
Far in the downy cloud,

9

Love gives it energy, love gave it birth.
Where on thy dewy wing,

Where art thou journeying?

Thy lay is in heaven, thy love is on earth.

'Grim' sel, a mountain of Switzerland, 7126 feet above the sea.'Mås' ter.—' Quarry (kwor' ry), here means game flown at by a hawk.— Blithesome (blith' sum), joyous; cheerful.-Cům' ber less, without care, trouble, or anxiety.- Måt' in, a morning song.- Lèa, a meadow or pasture; an extensive plain.- Em' blem, mark; sign; representa tion.- En' er gy, strength; ability to act.

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3. O'er fell' and fountain sheen,

O'er moor and mountain green,

O'er the red streamer that heralds3 the day,
Over the cloudlet dim,

Over the rainbow's rim,
Musical cherub, soar singing away!

4. Then, when the gloaming comes,
Low in the heathers blooms

Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be!
Emblem of happiness,

Blest is thy dwelling-place

Oh, to abide in the desert with thee!

Нода.

33. A MORNING CONVERSATION.

Mrs. Bolingbroke. I wish I knew what was the matter with me this morning. Why do you keep the newspaper all to yourself, my dear?

Mr. Bolingbroke. Here it is for you, my dear; I have fin-' ished it.

Mrs. B. I humbly thank you for giving it to me when you have done with it-I hate stale news. Is there any thing in the paper? for I can not be at the trouble of hunting it.

Mr. B. Yes, my dear; there are the marriages of two of our friends.

Mrs. B. Who? who?

Mr. B. Your friend, the widow Nettleby, to her cousin, John Nettleby.

Mrs. B. Mrs. Nettleby! Lord! But why did you tell me? Mr. B. Because you asked me, my dear.

Mrs. B. Oh, but it is a hundred times pleasanter to read the paragraph one's self. One loses all the pleasure of the surprise by being told. Well, whose was the other marriage?

1 Fåll, a barren or stony hill.- Sheen, light; brightness.- Her' alds, proclaims; announces. Gloam' ing, twilight.—' Heath' er, small shruls.-Ståle, old; not new.

Mr. B. Oh, my dear, I will not tell you; I will leave you the pleasure of the surprise.

Mrs. B. But you see I can not find it. How provoking you are, my dear! Do pray tell it me.

Mr. B. Our friend Mr. Granby.

Mrs. B. Mr. Granby! Dear! Why did not you make me guess? I should have guessed him directly. But why do you call him our friend? I am sure he is no friend of mine, nor ever was. I took an aversion1 to him, as you may remember, the very first day I saw him. I am sure he is no friend of mine. Mr. B. I am sorry for it, my dear; but I hope you will go and see Mrs. Granby.

Mrs. B. Not I, indeed, my dear. Who was she?

Mr. B. Miss Cooke.

Mrs. B. Cooke! But there are so many Cookes-can't you distinguish her any way? Has she no Christian name?

Mr. B. Emma, I think-Yes, Emma.

Mrs. B. Emma Cooke! No; it can not be my friend Emma Cooke; for I am sure she was cut out for an old maid.

Mr. B. This lady seems to me to be cut out for a good

wife.

Mrs. B. May be so-I am sure I'll never go to see her. Pray, my dear, how came you to see so much of her?

Mr. B. I have seen very little of her, my dear. I only saw her two or three times before she was married.

Mrs. B. Then, my dear, how could you decide that she was cut out for a good wife? I am sure you could not judge of her by seeing her only two or three times, and before she was married.

Mr. B. Indeed, my love, that is a very just observation.

Mrs. B. I understand that compliment perfectly, and thank you for it, my dear. I must own I can bear any thing better than irony.

Mr. B. Irony! my dear, I was perfectly in earnest.

Mrs. B. Yes, yes; in earnest—so I perceive-I may natu

'A version, dislike.—I' ron y, a kind of ridicule, in which we seem. ingly adopt or approve what we really reject or condemn, sarcastic praise.

rally be dull of apprehension,' but my feelings are quick enough; I comprehend you too well. Yes-it is impossible to judge of a woman before marriage, or to guess what sort of a wife she will make. I presume you speak from experience: you have been disappointed yourself, and repent your choice.

Mr B. My dear, what did I say that was like this? Upon my word, I meant no such thing. I really was not thinking of you in the least.

Mrs. B. No-you never think of me now. I can easily believe that you were not thinking of me in the least.

Mr. B. But I said that, only to prove to you that I could not be thinking ill of you, my dear.

Mrs. B. But I would rather that you thought ill of me, than that you did not think of me at all.

Mr. B. Well, my dear, I will even think ill of you, if that will please you.

Mrs. B. Do you laugh at me? When it comes to this, I am wretched indeed. Never man laughed at the woman he loved. As long as you had the slightest remains of love for me, you could not make me an object of derision: ridicule and love are incompatible; absolutely incompatible. Well, I have done my best, my very best, to make you happy, but in vain. I see I am not cut out to be a good wife. Happy, happy Mrs. Granby!

Mr. B. Happy, I hope sincerely, that she will be with my friend; but my happiness must depend on you, my love; so, for my sake, if not for your own, be composed, and do not torment yourself with such fancies.

Mrs. B. I do wonder whether this Mrs. Granby is really that Miss Emma Cooke. I'll go and see her directly; see her I must. Mr. B. I am heartily glad of it, my dear; for I am sure a visit to his wife will give my friend Granby real pleasure. Mrs. B. I promise you, my dear, I do not go to give him pleasure, or you either; but to satisfy my own-curiosity.

MISS EDGEWORTH.

'Ap pre hên' sion, understanding.-Derision (de riz' un), laughter; scorn; mockery.- In com påt'i ble, unable to be joined together; not agreeing with.

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