RIGHT OF THE POOR TO EDUCATION
On 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 Them 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 to inform The mind with moral and religious truth, Both understood and practised,-so that net. 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 a Of intellectual implements and tools; A savage horde among the civilized, A servile band among the lordly free; This right, as sacred almost as the right To 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;
d the rude boy-who, having overpast e sinless age, by conscience is enrolled. et mutinously 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 ba
-This sacred right is fruitlessly announced, This universal plea in vain addressed, To 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 The unquestionable good; which, England, safe From interference of external force, May grant at leisure; without risk incurred That what in wisdom for herself she doth Others shall e'er be able to undo.
Look! and behold from Calpe's sun-burnt cliffs To the flat margin of the Baltic sea, Long-reverenced titles cast away as weeds; Laws overturned,-and territory split; Like fields of ice rent by the polar wind And forced to join in less obnoxious shapes, Which, ere they gain consistence, by a gust Of the same breath are shatter'd and destroyed. Meantime the sovereignty of these fair isles Remains entire and indivisible;
And, if that ignorance were removed, which acts Within the compass of their several shores To breed commotion and disquietude, Each might preserve the beautiful repose Of heavenly bodies shining in their spheres. -The discipline of slavery is unknown Amongst 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.
THE rose was in rich bloom on Sharon's plains, When a young mother with her First-born, thence Went up to Zion: for the boy was vow'd Unto the Temple-service. By the hand She led him, and her silent soul, the while, Oft as the dewy laughter of his eye
Met her sweet serious glance, rejoiced to think That aught so pure, so beautiful was hers To bring before her God.
So pass'd they on, O'er Judah's hills; and wheresoe'er the leaves Of the broad sycamore made sounds at noon, Like lulling rain-drops, or the olive-boughs, With their cool dimness, cross'd the sultry blue Of Syria's heaven, she paused, that she might rest; Yet from her own meek eyelids chased the sleep That weighed their dark fringe down, to sit and
At last the Fane was reach'd, The earth's One Sanctuary; and rapture hush'd Her bosom, as before her, through the day It rose, a mountain of white marble, steep'd In light like floating gold. But when that hour Waned to the farewell moment, when the boy Lifed, through rain-bow gleaming tears, his eye Beseechingly to hers, and, half in fear,
Tera'd from the white-robed priest, and round her
Cang even as ivy elings: the deep spring-tide Of nature then swell'd high; and o'er her child Beading, her soul brake forth, in mingled sounds of weeping and sad song.-"Alas!" she cried, "Alas, my boy! thy gentle grasp is on me, The bright tears quiver in thy pleading eyes, And now fond thoughts arise,
And silver chords again to earth have won me, And like a vine thou claspest my full heart- How shall I hence depart?
"How the lone paths retrace, where thou wert playing
So late, along the mountains at my side; And I, in joyous pride,
By every place of flowers my course delaying,
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.
The crimson deepening o'er his cheek's repose, As at a red-flower's heart: and where a fount Lay, like a twilight star, 'midst palmy shades, Making its banks green gems along the wild, There too she linger'd, from the diamond wave Drawing clear water for his rosy lips, And softly parting clusters of jet curls To bathe his brow.
At last the Fane was reach'd, The earth's One Sanctuary; and rapture hush'd Her bosom, as before her, through the day It rose, a mountain of white marble, steep'd In light like floating gold. But when that hour Waned to the farewell moment, when the boy Lifted, through rain-bow gleaming tears, his eye Beseechingly to hers, and, half in fear,
Turn'd from the white-robed priest, and round her
Clung even as ivy clings: the deep spring-tide Of nature then swell'd high; and o'er her child Belding, her soul brake forth, in mingled sounds Of weeping and sad song.-"Alas!" she cried, "Alas, my boy! thy gentle grasp is on me, The bright tears quiver in thy pleading eyes, And now fond thoughts arise,
And silver chords again to earth have won me, And like a vine thou claspest my full heart- How shall I hence depart?
"How the lone paths retrace, where thou wert playing
So late, along the mountains at my side; And I, in joyous pride,
By every place of flowers my course delaying,
SACRED HARMONY.
Wove, e'en as pearls, the lilies round thy hair, Beholding thee so fair!
"And, oh! the home whence thy bright smile hath parted!
Will it not seem as if the sunny day Turn'd from its door away?
While, through its chambers wandering, weary hearted,
I languish for thy voice, which past me still, Went like a singing rill!
"Under the palm-trees, thou no more shalt me
When from the fount at evening I return,
With the full-water urn!
Nor will thy sleep's low, dove-like murmurs get
As 'midst the silence of the stars I wake,
And watch for thy dear sake!
"And thou, will slumber's dewy cloud fall round
Without thy Mother's hand to smooth thy bed! Wilt thou not vainly spread hine arms, when darkness as a veil bath w
fold my neck, and lift up, in thy fear, A cry which none shall hear!
have I said, my Child? will He not b
he young ravens heareth from their nest!
1 HE not guard thy rest,
in the hush of holy midnight near the the o'er thy soul, and fill its dreams with aou shalt sleep soft, my boy!
"I give thee to thy God!-the God that gave thee, A well-spring of deep gladness to my heart!
And precious as thou art,
And pure as dew of Hermon, He shall have thee, My own, my beautiful, my undefiled!
And thou shalt be His child.
ON SEEING A DECEASED INFANT
AND this is death! how cold and still, And yet how lovely it appears! Too cold to let the gazer smile, And yet too beautiful for tears. The sparkling eye no more is bright, The cheek hath lost its roselike red; And yet it is with strange delight I stand and gaze upon the dead.
But when I see the fair wide brow, Half shaded by the silken hair, That never looked so fair as now, When life and health were laughing there, I wonder not that grief should swell So wildly upward in the breast, And that strong passion once rebel, That need not, cannot be suppress'd.
I wonder not that parents' eyes In gazing thus grow cold and dim, That burning tears and aching sighs Are blended with the funeral hymn;
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