How lovely and joyful the course that h Though he rose in a mist when his race And there followed some droppings of But now the fair traveller's come to the His rays are all gold, and his beauties ar He paints the sky gay as he sinks to his And foretells a bright rising again. Just such is the Christian; his course he Like the sun in a mist, when he mourns And melts into tears; then he breaks ou And travels his heavenly way: But when he comes nearer to finish his r Like a fine setting sun, he looks richer in And gives a sure hope, at the end of his Of rising in brighter array. Ex. 89. WHI - WHAT THE WINDS BRING. Stedman. HICH is the wind that brings the cold? The north-wind, Freddy, and all the snow; And the sheep will scamper into the fold When the north begins to blow. Which is the wind that brings the heat? Which is the wind that brings the rain? Which is the wind that brings the flowers? Ex. 90. - GOD'S LOVE TO US. HERE 'S not a flower that decks the vale, There's not a beam that lights the mountain, There's not a shrub that scents the gale, There's not a wind that stirs the fountain, There's not a hue that paints the rose, God's love to us and love undying! When her kings, with standard of Led the Red-Branch Knights to Ere the emerald gem of the wester Was set in the crown of a strang On Lough Neagh's bank as the fish When the clear cold eve 's decli He sees the round towers of other In the wave beneath him shining Thus shall memory often, in dream Catch a glimpse of the days tha Thus, sighing, look through the wa For the long-faded glories they BEHOLD the young, the ros Gives to the breeze her sce While virgin graces, warm with Fling roses o'er her dewy way. The murmuring billows of the d Have languished into silent slee And mark! the flitting sea-birds Their plumes in the reflecting w While cranes from hoary winter To flutter in a kinder sky. Now the genial star of day Dissolves the murky clouds away, HE birds gave a picnic; the morning was fine; They all came in couples to chat and to dine. Miss Robin, Miss Wren, and the two Misses Jay, Were dressed in a manner decidedly gay. And Bluebird, who looks like a handful of sky, Miss Phebe was there in her prim suit of brown; The Grasshoppers came, some in gray, some in green, SELECTIONS IN POETRY. The Bees turned out lively, the young and the old, 93 There were big bugs in plenty, and gnats great and small,— hard matter to mention them all. A very And what did they do? Why, they sported and sang, Who e'er gave a picnic so grand and so gay ? Ex. 94. - WARREN'S ADDRESS. - John Pierpont. S1 TAND! the ground 's your own, my braves! What's the mercy despots feel? Ask it, ye who will. Fear ye foes who kill for hire? 'Who have done it! From the vale On they come! — and will ye quail ? Let their welcome be! |