LESSON CIX.-LAMENTATION OF REBECCA THE JEWESS. 5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 If I had Jubal's chorded shell, O'er which the first-born music rolled, -G. LUNT. Of that high harp, whose sweeter tone Then might my soul aspire, and hold All that we were but are no more! Of home, his eyes may never see. And darkly spreads o'er Zion's hill, And cedars wave the stately head, Breaks a deep voice that stirs the dead. Thy tears are seen, thy prayers are heard! Though Judah feels the stranger's yoke, Yet shall the day of promise come. 5 Thy sons from iron bondage break, And God shall lead the wanderers home!” LESSON CX.-TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO.-GRENVILLE MELLEN. 5 10 Wake your harp's music!-louder,-higher, And pour your strains along; And smite again each quivering wire, In all the pride of song! Shout like those godlike men of old, Who, daring storm and foe, On this blest soil their anthem rolled, From native shores by tempests driven, And found, beneath a milder heaven, An altar rose,—and prayers,-a ray Broke on their night of woe, 15 The harbinger of Freedom's day, 20 25 30 Two hundred years ago! They clung around that symbol too, Their refuge and their all; And swore, while skies and waves were blue, That altar should not fall. They stood upon the red man's sod, 'Neath heaven's unpillared bow, With home,—a country, and a God, Two hundred years ago! Oh! 't was a hard unyielding fate And Persecution strove with Hate, But safe above each coral grave, 5 10 15 20 25 They knelt them on the desert sand, Alone upon the dreary strand They looked upon the high blue air, And felt their spirits glow, Resolved to live or perish there,- The warrior's red right arm was bared, Was there a foreign footstep dared To seek his home and child? The dark chiefs yelled alarm, and swore And his hewn bones should bleach their shore,— But lo! the warrior's eye grew dim, His arm was left alone,— The still, black wilds which sheltered him, No longer were his own! Time fled, and on the hallowed ground His highest pine lies low, And cities swell where forests frowned, Two hundred years ago! Oh! stay not to recount the tale, "T was bloody, and 't is past; The firmest cheek might well grow pale, To hear it to the last. The God of heaven, who prospers us, 30 Could bid a nation grow, And shield us from the red man's curse, 35 40 Come then,-great shades of glorious men, Look on your own proud land again, O bravest of the brave! We call you from each mouldering tomb, To bless the world ye snatched from doom, 5 Then to your harps, yet louder,-higher, And smite again each quivering wire, Shout for those godlike men of old, Who, daring storm and foe, On this blest soil their anthem rolled. LESSON CXI.-THE STAGE.-CHARLES SPRAGUE. Lo, where the Stage, the poor, degraded Stage, 5 There, where grown children gather round to praise 10 The herded vagabonds of every shore; Women, unsexed, who, lost to woman's pride, Gods! who can grace yon desecrated dome, Ask ye who can? why, I, and you, and you: They have no time for Hamlet, or for Lear; 5 Our daughters turn from gentle Juliet's woe, To count the twirls of Almaviva's toe. Not theirs the blame who furnish forth the treat, 15 Where are the crowds so wont to choke the door? Pray Heaven, if yet indeed the Stage must stand, Despots to shame may yield their rising youth, Even Wit, so long forgot, may play its part, 25 Perchance the listeners, to their instinct true, May fancy common sense, 't were surely Something New LESSON CXII. THE BURIAL-PLACE AT LAUREL HILL. W. G. CLARK. Here the lamented dead in dust shall lie, Life's lingering languors o'er, its labors done; 5 Here the long concourse from the murmuring town, 10 To lay the loved in tranquil silence down, And in this hallowed spot, where Nature showers Whose fragrant incense from the grave shall rise. |