whom they once had served: incense and hymns rose up; but a divine voice came down to them, clear and ringing: Why did you doubt and mourn? Mountains will fall,-seas will disappear,-temples fall to ruins,-but the life of the Gods will breathe where it lists." TELL'S BIRTH-PLACE. MARK this holy chapel well! The birth-place, this, of William Tell.* Here, where stands God's altar dread, Stood his parents' marriage-bed. Here first, an infant to her breast, COLERIDGE. And kissed the babe, and bless'd the day, "Vouchsafe him health, O God, and give God gave him reverence of laws, Yet stirring blood in Freedom's cause- The eye of the hawk, and the fire therein! To Nature and to Holy Writ Alone did God the boy commit: Where flashed and roared the torrent, oft The straining oar and chamois' chase He knew not that his chosen hand, * A celebrated Swiss patriot, who roused his countrymen to throw off the Austrian yoke. Alas! my child, you only snow Sin twines itself with every thought, The fruits, dear child, of Adam's fall The God to whom you kneel and pray. His word in many places shows And O! may He his grace impart THE BOY. THERE'S something in a noble boy, N. P. WILLIS. His dread of books and love of fun, And felt its very gladness. And yet it is not in his play, When every trace of thought is lost, For, like the wrinkles on my brow, 'Tis then that on his face I lookHis beautiful but thoughtful face, And, like a long-forgotten book, Its sweet familiar meaning trace, Remembering a thousand things Which passed me on those golden wings, Which time has fettered now, Things that came o'er me with a thrill, And left me silent, sad, and still, And threw upon my brow A holier and a gentler cast, That was too innocent to last. 'Tis strange how thought upon a child Will, like a presence, sometimes press,And when his pulse is beating wild, And life itself is in excess, When foot and hand, and ear and eye, How, with the clouds, he'll float away, 21 THE END, |