262 "THE WISH FOR FAME IS FAITH IN HOLY THINGS THE ANGEL AND THE CHILD. Thou bring'st the hope of those calm skies, Seems of a brighter world than ours. [WALTER CULLEN BRYANT, born in the state of Massachusetts, in North America, in 1794. His finest poems are the "Thanutopsis" and "Forest Hymn," but many of his minor pieces display a "tender pensiveness" and "moral melancholy" which interest and delight the reader.] "THE ONWARD WAVES THEIR SOURCE DESERT; BUT SOUL RETURNS TO SOUL."-LORD LYTTON. THE ANGEL AND THE CHILD. B PON a barren steep, Above a stormy deep, I saw an angel watching the wild sea; Time was that stormy deep, THAT SOOTHE THE LIFE, AND SHALL OUTLIVE THE TOUCH."-LYTTON. "MAN, SAY Our sages, HATH A FICKLE MIND, AND PLEASURES PALL IF LONG ENJOYED THEY BE."-LYTTON. KNOWLEDGE IS PROUD THAT HE HAS LEARNED SO MUCH : "Mine all upon the earth, The Angel's angel-birth, Sweeping each terror from the howling wild." The dream that haunts me yet, Of Patience nursing Hope-the Angel and the Child. [LORD LYTTON, one of the most brilliant of living novelists-successful, too, as poet, historian, essayist, and orator-was born in 1805. His principal poem is the epic of "King Arthur,"] "OF ALL SAD WORDS OF TONGUE OR PEN, THE SADDEST ARE THESE, IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN!'"-WHITTIER. "THOUGHTS WHOSE VERY SWEETNESS YIELDETH PROOF THAT THEY WERE BORN FOR IMMORTALITY."-WORDSWORTH. BIRDS IN SUMMER. JOW pleasant the life of a bird must be, In the leafy trees, so broad and tall, They have left their nests in the forest bough; Where the merry leaves dance in the summer air!" WISDOM IS HUMBLE THAT HE KNOWS NO MORE."-Cowper. "THERE IS A PLEASURE IN THE PATHLESS WOODS, THERE IS A RAPTURE ON THE LONELY SHORE ; THERE IS SOCIETY, WHERE NONE INTRUDES, BY THE DEEP SEA, AND MUSIC IN ITS ROAR,"-BYRON. And the birds below give back the cry, And away through the air what joy to go, How pleasant the life of a bird must be, And then wheeling away to its cliff-built home! By a strong free wing, through the rosy morn, To meet the young sun face to face, And pierce like a shaft the boundless space! HOW GLORIOUS IN ITS ACTION AND ITSELF!"-BYRON. "WHERE'ER WE TREAD, 'TIS HAUNTED, HOLY GROUND."-BYRON. THE VOICE OF SPRING. How pleasant the life of a bird must be, Dashing adown 'mong the waterfalls, What joy must it be, like a living breeze, The wastes of the blossoming purple heath, How pleasant the life of a bird must be ! 265 [MARY HOWITT, born 18-. This gifted and genial poet, novelist, and essayist, who is so deserved a favourite with the youth of England, is the wife of William Howitt, a well-known man of letters.] "TELL ME, ON WHAT HOLY GROUND MAY DOMESTIC PEACE BE FOUND?"-S. T. COLERIDGE. "IN A COTTAGED Vale SHE DWELLS, LISTENING TO THE SABBATH BELLS."-S. T. COLERIDGE, THE VOICE OF SPRING. AM coming, I am coming! In the blue and sunny sky; See the yellow catkins cover LOVE STANDS NOT STILL, BUT OR DECAYS OR grows."-BYRON. "IF WRONG YOU DO, IF FALSE YOU PLAY, IN SUMMER AMONG THE FLOWERS, HE WHO ASCENDS TO MOUNTAIN-TOPS SHALL FIND 266 THE VOICE OF SPRING. And on banks of mossy green Star-like primroses are seen; And, their clustering leaves below, Hark! the new-born lambs are bleating, YOU MUST ATONE, YOU SHALL REPAY, IN WINTER AMONG THE SHOWERS."-CHARLES MACKAY. THE LOFTIEST PEAKS MOST WRAPT IN CLOUDS AND SNOW."-BYRON. |