And yet more precious seed we sow

With sorrow in the world's wide field; And hope, though in the grave laid low, A flower of heavenly hue 't will yield.

Till the Bell is safely cold

May our heavy labors rest;
Free as the bird, by none controlled,
Each may do what pleases best.
With approaching night
Twinkling stars are bright.
Vespers call the boys to play;
The Master's toils end not with day.

Now break up the useless mould,
Its only purpose is fulfilled.
May our eyes, well pleased, behold
A work to prove us not unskilled.
Wield the hammer well

Till the frame shall yield!
That the Bell to light may rise,

The form in thousand fragments flies.

God has given us joy to-night!

See, how like the golden grain
From the husk, all smooth and bright,
The shining metal now is ta'en.
From lip to well-formed rim,
Not a spot is dim:

F'en the motto, neatly raised,

Shows a skill may well be praised.

Around, around,

Companions all, take your ground,

And name the bell with joy profound!
Concordia is the word we've found

Most meet to express the harmonious sound
That calls to those in friendship bound.

Be this henceforth the destined end
To which the finished work we send
High over every meaner thing,

In the blue canopy of heaven,
Near to the thunder let it swing,

A neighbor to the stars be given.

Let its clear voice above proclaim,

With brightest troops of distant suns, The praise of our Creator's name,

While round each circling season runs. To solemn thoughts of heartfelt power Let its deep note full oft invite, And tell, with every passing hour, Of hastening time's unceasing flight. Still let it mark the course of fate; Its cold, unsympathizing voice Attend on every changing state

Of human passions, griefs, and joys. And as the mighty sound it gives Dies gently on the listening ear, We feel how quickly all that lives Must change, and fade, and disappear.

Now, lads, join your strength around!
Lift the bell to upper air!

And in the kingdom wide of sound
Once placed, we 'll leave it there.
All together! heave!

Its birthplace see it leave!

Joy to all within its bound!

Peace its first, its latest sound!

HASTE NOT-REST NOT.

WITHCU haste, without rest:
Bind the motto to thy breast;

Bear it with thee as a spell;

Storm or sunshine, guard it well;

Heed not flowers that round thee bloom

Bear it onward to the tomb.

Haste not: Let no reckless deed

Mar for aye the spirit's speed;
Ponder well, and know the right;
Forward, then, with all thy might!
Haste not: Years cannot atone
For one reckless action done.

Rest not: Time is sweeping by;
Do and dare before thou die.

THE DIVISION OF THE EARTH.

"TAKE the world!" Zeus exclaim'd from his throne in the skies To the children of man "take the world I now give;

It shall ever remain as your heirloom and prize.

So divide it as brothers, and happily live."

Then all who had hands sought their share to obtain,
The young and the agèd made haste to appear;
The husbandman seiz'd on the fruits of the plain,
The youth thro' the forest pursued the fleet deer.

The merchant took all that his warehouse could hold,
The abbot selected the last year's best wine,
The king barr'd the bridges, the highways controll'd,
And said, "Now remember, the tithes shall be mine!"

But when the division long settled had been,
The poet drew nigh from a far distant land;
But alas! not a remnant was now to be seen,
Each thing on the earth own'd a master's command.

"Alas! shall then I, of thy sons the most true
Shall I, 'mongst them all, be forgotten alone?"
Thus loudly he cried in his anguish, and threw
Himself in despair before Jupiter's throne.

"If thou in the region of dreams didst delay,
Complain not of me," the Immortal replied;

"When the world was apportioned, where then wert thou, pray?" "I was," said the poet, "I was by thy side!

"Mine eye was then fixed on thy features so bright,
Mine ear was entranced by thy harmony's power;

Oh, pardon the spirit that, aw'd by thy light,
All things of the earth could forget in that hour!"

"What to do?" Zeus exclaim'd "for the world has been given; The harvest, the market, the chase, are not free;

But if thou with me wilt abide in my heaven,
Whenever thou com'st 't will be open to thee ! "

THE LONGING.

FROM this valley's lowly plain,
Where but chilly mists I see,
Could I but the pathway gain,
Oh, how happy I should be!
Lovely mountains greet mine eye,
Ever verdant, young and fair,
To the mountains I would fly
Had I wings to cleave the air.

In my ear sweet music rings,
Tones of Heaven's lulled repose;
Borne upon the zephyr's wings
Balmy odor round me flows.
Golden glows the fruit so fair,
Nodding on the dark green spray,
And the flowers blooming there
Winter marks not for his prey.

To the sun's eternal light

Ah, how sweet it were to flee !
And the air on yonder height
How refreshing must it be!
But a torrent bars my way,
Angrily its billows roll,
And the menace of its spray
With a shudder fills my soul.

Lo! a boat reels to and fro,

But, alas, the pilot fails!

Bold and fearless in it go!

Life breathes on its swelling sails.

Gods ne'er give a pledge to man.

Strong in faith, then, thou must dare;

Thee naught but a wonder can

To the Land of Wonders bear.

KARL WILHELM FRIEDRICH SCHLEGEL.

SCHLEGEL, KARL WILHELM FRIEDRICH, a German historian and critic; born at Hanover, March 10, 1772; died at Dresden, January 12, 1829. He studied at Göttingen and Leipsic, and in 1797 published "The Greeks and Romans," followed the next year by his "History of the Poetry of the Greeks and Romans." He afterward went to Jena, became a private teacher, lectured upon philosophy, and edited the "Athenæum." From Jena he went to Dresden, and thence to Paris, where he edited "Europa," a monthly journal, and studied Sanskrit and the languages of Southern Europe. In 1808 he became a Roman Catholic and went to Vienna. Here he lectured and wrote history, philosophy, and the history of literature. His works, other than historical, include "Lucinda," an early novel of questionable character; "Alarcos," a tragedy; and numerous "Essays" and "Poems." Most of his writings have been translated into English; among these are "Lectures on Modern History" (1811), translated by Purcell; "Lectures on the History of Literature, Ancient and Modern" (1815), translated by Lockhart; "Lectures on the Philosophy of Life and the Philosophy of Language" (1828), translated by Morrison; "Lectures on the Philosophy of History" (1829), translated by Robertson; "Esthetic and Miscel laneous Works," translated by Millington.

BACON AND HIS PHILOSOPHY.

THE sixteenth century was the age of ferment and of strife, and it was not until the close of it that the human mind began to recover from the violent shock it had sustained. With the seventeenth century new paths of thinking and investigation were opened, owing to the rivival of classical learning, the extension given to the natural sciences and geography, and the general commotion and difference in religious belief occasioned by Protestantism. The first name suggested by the mention of these several features is Bacon. This mighty genius ranks as the father of modern physics, inasmuch as he brought back the spirit of investigation from the barren verbal subtleties of the