« ПредишнаНапред »
the characters in me. They were like letters cut in advantage from his majesty's happy restoration, bu the berk of a young tree, which, with the tree, still the getting into some moderately convenient retreat grow \'roportionably. But how this love came to be in the country, which I thought in that case I might produ ed in me so early, is a hard question; I be- easily have compassed, as well as some others, who, fieve l an tell the particular little chance that filled with no greater probabilities or pretences, have army he. I first with such chimes of verse, as have rived to extraordinary fortunes. But I had before never si ice left ringing there; for I remember when written a shrewd prophecy against myself, and I I began to read, and take some pleasure in it, there think Apollo inspired me in the truth, though not in was wont to lie in my mother's parlour-I know not the elegance of it: by what accident, for she herself never in her life read any book but of devotion—but there was wont Thou neither great at court nor in the war, to lie Spencer's works; this I happened to fall upon, Nor at the Exchange shalt be, nor at the wrangling and was infinitely delighted with the stories of the bar; knights, and giants, and monsters, and brave houses Content thyself with the small barren praise which I found everywhere there--though my under. Which thy neglected verse does raise, &c. standing had little to do with all this--and by de. grees, with the tinkling of the rhyme, and dance of However, by the falling of the forces which I had the numbers; so that I think I had read him all over expected, I did not quit the design which I had rebefore I was twelve years old. With these affections solved on; I cast myself into a corpus perditum, with. of mind, and my heart wholly set upon letters, I out making capitulations, or taking counsel of fortune. went to the university; but was soon torn from But God laughs at man, who says to his soul, “Take thence by that public violent storm, which would thy ease;' I met presently not only with many little suffer nothing to stand where it did, but rootod up incumbrances and impediments, but with so much every plant even from the princely cedars, to me, the sickness-a new misfortune to me-as would have hyssop. Yet I had as good fortune as could have spoiled the happiness of an emperor as well as mine. befallen me in such a tempest; for I was cast by it Yet I do neither repent nor alter my course; Non into the family of one of the best persons, and into ego perfidum dixi sacramentum [I have not falsely the court of one of the best princesses in the world. sworn). Nothing shall separate me from a mistress Now, though I was here engaged in ways most con. which I have loved so long, and have now at last trary to the original design of my life; that is, into married; though she neither has brought me a rich much company, and no small business, and into a
portion, nor lived yet so quietly with me as I hoped daily sight of greatness—both militant and triumph- from her. ant-for that was the state then of the English and the French courts—yet all this was so far from alter
Nor by me e'er shall you, ing my opinion, that it only added the confirmation
You of all names the sweetest and the best, of reason to that which was before but natural incli.
You muses, books, and liberty, and rest; nation. I saw plainly all the paint of that kind of
You gardens, fields, and woods forsaken be, life the nearer I came to it; and that beauty which I
As long as life itself forsakes not me. did not fall in love with, when, for aught I knew, it was real, was not like to bewitch or entice me when
AN ELOQUENT PASSAGE. I saw it was adulterate. I met with several great persons, whom I liked very well, but could not perceive that any part of their greatness was to be liked It cannot be that earth is man's only abiding place. or desired, no more than I would be glad or content It cannot be that our life is a mere bubble cast up by to be in a storm, though I saw many ships which rid eternity to float a moment on the waves and sink safely and bravely in it. A storm would not agree into nothingness. Else why is it that the glorious with my stomach, if it did with my courage; though aspirations which leap like angels from the temple I was in a crowd of as good company as could be of our hearts are forever wandering unsatisfied? found anywhere, though I was in business of great Why is it that the stars that hold their festival around and honorable trust, though I eat at the best table, the midnight throne are set above the grasp of our and enjoyed the best conveniences for present sub- limited faculties, forever mocking us with their un. sistence that ought to be desired by a man of my approachable glory? And finally, why is it that condition, in banishment and public distresses; yet I bright forms of human beauty presented to our view could not abstain from renewing my old schoolboy's are taken from us, leaving the thousand streams of wish, in a copy of verses to the same effect:
our affections to flow back in Alpine torrents upon
our hearts? There is a realm where the rainbow Well, then, I now do plainly see
never fades; where the stars will spread out before This busy world and I shall ne'er agree, &c. us like the islands that slumber in the ocean; and
where the beautiful beings which pass before us like And I never then proposed to myself any other shadows will stay in our presence forever.
GEORGE D. PRENTISS.
For thee, who, mindful of the unhonoured dead,
Dost in these lines their artless tale relate; If chance, by lonely Contemplation led,
Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate;
Haply some hoary-headed swain may say;
•Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away,
To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.
• There at the foot of yonder nodding beech,
That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch,
And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
• Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn,
Muttering his wayward fancies he would rove; Now drooping, woful, wan, like one forlorn,
Or crazed with care, or crossed in hopeless love.
•One morn I missed him on the customed hill,
Along the heath and near his favourite tree ; Another came; nor yet beside the rill,
Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he;
«The next, with dirges due, in sad array, Slow through the churchway path we saw him
borne; Approach and read-for thou canst read—the lay
Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.'
With treasured tales and legendary lore.
Mark yon old mansion frowning through the trees,
court, Once the calm scene of many a simple sport; When nature pleased, for life itself was new, And the heart promised what the fancy drew, Childhood's loved group revisits every scene, The tangled wood-walk and the tufted green! Indulgent Memory wakes, and lo, they live! Clothed with far softer hues than light can give. Thou first, best friend that Heaven assigns below, To soothe and sweeten all the cares we know; Whose glad suggestions still each vain alarm, When nature fades and life forgets to charm; Thee would the Muse invoke!-to thee belong The sage's precept and the poet's song. What softened views thy magic glass reveals, When o'er the landscape Time's meek twilight
steals! As when in ocean sinks the orb of day, Long on the wave reflected lustres play; Thy tempered gleams of happiness resigned, Glance on the darkened mirror of the mind. The school's lone porch, with reverend mosses gray, Just tells the pensive pilgrim where it lay. Mute is the bell that rung at peep of dawn, Quickening iny truant feet across the lawn; Unheard the shout that rent the noontide air When the slow dial gave a pause to care. Up springs, at every step, to claim a tear, Some little friendship formed and cherished here; And not the lightest leaf, but trembling teems With golden visions and romantic dreams.
Down by yon hazel copse, at evening, blazed
Ah, then, what honest triumph flushed my breast;
THE EI - APH.
Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth,
A Youth to fortune and to Fame unknown: Fair Science frowned not on his humble birth,
And Melancholy marked him for her own.
Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,
Heaven did a recompense as largely send : He gave to Misery all he had—a tear; He gained from Heaven—'twas all he wished-a
No further seek his merits to disclose,
Or draw his frailties from their dread abodeThere they alike in trembling hope repose
The bosom of his Father and his God.
PLEASURE.S OF MEMORY.
Twilight's soft dews steal o'er the village green,