15. No sound was heard, except, from far away, 16. But Echo never mocked the human tongue. Some weighty crime that heaven could not pardon, 17. The beds were all untouched by hand or tool; 18. The pear and quince lay squandered on the grass; The mould was purple with unheeded showers Of bloomy plums: a wilderness it was Of fruits and weeds and flowers. 19. The marigold amidst the nettles blew ; The gourd embraced the rose-bush in its ramble; 20. The fountain was a-dry: neglect and time 21. On every side the aspect was the same, All ruined, desolate, forlorn, and savage; 22. For over all there hung a cloud of fear; DEFINITIONS.-1. Fle'tions, things invented or imagined. 3. Băn curse. Ex com mū ni eã ́tion, expulsion from the communion of a church. 5. De mure'ly, with a show of gravity. 6. Păr a pět, a wall or rampart. 7. Cop'Ing-stone, the highest or covering course of masonry in a wall. 9. Es pi'al, notice. Păr a sĭt ́ie, living on or deriving nourishment from some other living thing. Di'al, an instrument for showing the time of day from a shadow cast by the sun. 15. Whit'wall, the great spotted woodpecker. 17. Măn'tled, covered with a scum. 20. Efts, small lizards. Be got', born. NOTE.-12. Shocking tameness refers to the following stanza from Cowper's poem of Alexander Selkirk: "The beasts that roam over the plain My form with indifference see: 48. THE SUMMER MONTHS. WILLIAM MOTHERWELL was born in Glasgow, Scotland, October 13, 1797. He was educated at the grammar-school of Paisley. In 1819 he published the Harp of Renfrewshire, which contained biographical sketches of the poets of that district. His Minstrelsy, Ancient and Modern, appeared in 1827. He was connected with several magazines, and in 1830 became editor of the Glasgow Courier. He possessed a rich and powerful imagination and great tenderness of feeling. His Jeanie Morrison is a poem of surpassing pathos and beauty. He died November 1, 1835. 1. THEY come, the merry summer months They come, the gladsome months that bring 2. Up, up, my heart, and walk abroad; Seek silent hills, or rest thyself 3. Or, underneath the shadow vast Scan through its leaves the cloudless sky 4. The grass is soft: its velvet touch And, like the kiss of maiden love, 5. The daisy and the buttercup It stirs their blood with kindest love 6. And mark how with thine own thin locksThey now are silvery gray That blissful breeze is wantoning, 7. There is no cloud that sails along But hath its own winged mariners 8. Thou seest their glittering fans outspread And hark! with shrill pipe musical 9. God bless them all, those little ones, Can make a scoff of its mean joys 10. But soft! Mine ear upcaught a sound • The spirit of the dim green glade 11. Yes, it is he,-the hermit-bird, 12. Cuckoo! cuckoo! he sings again: But simplest strains do soonest sound 13. Good Lord, it is a gracious boon, For thought-crazed wight like me, 14. To suck once more in every breath And feed my fancy with fond dreams 15. When, rushing forth like untamed colt, Wandered through green woods all day long, 16. I'm sadder now: I have had cause; That each pure joy-fount loved of yore 17. Leaf, blossom, blade, hill, valley, stream, Still mingle music with my dreams, 18. When summer's loveliness and light I'll bear indeed life's heaviest curse,― DEFINITIONS.-2. €ärk, anxiety; solicitude. 9. Scoff, ridicule. 49. ROBERT BURNS. THOMAS CARLYLE was born at the town of Ecclefechan, Dumfriesshire, Scotland, December 4, 1796. He was educated at Annan, and afterward spent some time at the Edinburgh University. He wrote a num. ber of historical and biographical works, and a great variety of critical and miscellaneous essays and translations. His historical writings combine great depth of feeling with the most careful research. His critical essays always show a complete mastery of the subject. In his biographical essays he displays great power in the portrayal of character. He died in 1881. The extract is from his Essay on Burns. 1. BURNS first came upon the world as a prodigy, and was in that character entertained by it, in the usual fashion, with loud, vague, tumultuous wonder, speedily subsiding into censure and neglect, till his early and most mournful death again awakened an enthusiasm for him which—especially as there was now nothing to be done, and much to be spoken-has prolonged itself even to our own time. 2. It is true, the "nine days" have long since elapsed: |