LESSON LXXXIV. 574

THE PEARL-DIVER.

1. Thou hast been where the rocks of coral grow,

Thou has fought with +eddying waves ;
Thy cheek is pale, and thy heart beats low.

Thou searcher of ocean's caves ! 2. Thou hast looked on the gleaming wealth of old,

And wrecks where the brave have striven;
The deep is a strong and fearful hold,

But thou its bar hast riven!
3. A wild and weary life is thine,

A wasting task and lone;
Though Ftreasure-grots for thee may shine,

To all besides unknown.
4. A weary life! but a swift decay

Soon, soon shall set thee free!
Thou’rt passing fast from thy toils away,

Thou wrestler with the sea!
5. In thy dim eye, on thy hollow cheek,

Well are the death-signs read;
Go, for the pearl in its cavern seek,

Ere hope and power be fled.
6. And bright in beauty's + coronal

That glistening gem shall be;
A star to all the + festive hall

But who shall think on thee? 7. None;-as it gleams from the queen-like head.

Not one, 'mid throngs, will say,
“A life hath been like a rain-drop shed,

For that pale and quivering ray.'
8. Woe for the wealth thus dearly boughti-

And are not those like thee,
Who win for earth, the gems of thought?

O wrestler with the sea!
9. Down to the gulfs of the soul they go,

Where the passion-fountains burn,
Gathering the jewels far below,

From many a buried urn:
10. Wringing from +lava-veins the fire

That o'er bright words is poured ;
Learning deep sounds, to make the lyro
A spirit in each chord.

11. But oh! the price of bitter tears,

Paid for the lonely power,
That throws at last, o'er desert years,

A darkly glorious dower!
12. Like flower-seeds, by the wild wind spread,

So radiant thoughts are strewed;
The soul whence those high gifts are shed,

May faint in solitude.
13. And who will think, when the strain is

sung,
Till a thousand hearts are stirred,
What life-drops from the minstrel wrung,

Have gushed with every word ?
14. None, none!-his treasures live like thine,

He strives and dies like thee;
Thou that hast been to the pearl's dark shrine,
O wrestler with the sea !

MRS. HEMANS.

LESSON LXXXV. 67

ELEGY IN A COUNTRY OHURCH-YARD.

1. TIE +curfew tolls; the knell of parting day!

The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the + lea; The plowman homeward plods his weary way,

And leaves the world to darkness, and to me.
2. Now fades the glimm’ring landscape on the sight,

And all the air a solemn stillness holds,
Save where the beetle wheels his + droning flight,

And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds : 3. Save, that from yonder ivy-mantled tower,

The + moping owl does to the moon complain Of such as, wand'ring near her secret bower,

Molest her ancient, solitary reign. 4. Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade,

Where heaves the turf in many a mold’ring heap, Each in his narrow cell forever laid,

The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. 5. The breezy call of incense-breathing morn,

The swallow, twitt'ring from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn,

No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. 6. For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn,

Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; Nor children run to lisp their sire's return,

Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.

+

7. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield;

Their furrow oft the stubborn + glebe has broke ;
How +jocund did they drive their team afield !

How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke! 8. Let not ambition mock their useful toil,

Their homely joys, and destiny obscure ;
Nor grandeur hear, with a disdainful smile,

The short and simple + annals of the poor. 9. The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,

And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
Await, alike, the inevitable hour:

The paths of glory lead but to the grave. 10. Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault,

If mem'ry o'er their tomb no +trophies raise, Where, through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault,

The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. 11. Can +storied urn or animated +bust,

Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath?
Can honor's voice provoke the silent dust,

Or flattery soothe the dull, cold ear of death? 12. Perhaps, in this neglected spot, is laid

Some heart once pregnant with +celestial fire;
Hands that the rod of empire might have swayed,

Or waked to tecstasy the living lyre.
13. But knowledge to their eyes her ample page,

Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll ;
Chill penury repressed their noble rage,

And froze the + genial current of the soul. 14. Full many a gem of purest ray serene,

The dark, unfathom'd caves of ocean bear;
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,

And waste its sweetness on the desert air. 15. Some village Hampden, that, with dauntless breast,

The little tyrant of his fields withstood;
Some mute, inglorious Milton here may rest;

Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood. 16. The applause of listning senates to command,

The threats of pain and ruin to despise,
To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land,

And read their hist’ry in a nation's eyes, 17. Their lot forbade ; nor, +circumscribed alone

Their glowing virtues, but their crimes confined; Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne,

And shut the gates of mercy on mankind;
18. The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide ;

To quench the blushes of tingenuous shame;
Or heap the shrine of luxury and pride,

With +incense kindled at the muse's flame.

19. Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife,

Their sober wishes never learn’d to stray:
Along the cool, +sequestered vale of life,

They kept the noiseless tenor of their way. 20. Yet e'en these bones, from insult to protect,

Some frail memorial still, erected nigh,
With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck’d,

Implores the passing tribute of a sigh. 21. The names, their years, spell’d by the unletter'd milk,

The place of fame and elegy supply ;
And many a holy text around she strews,

Teaching the rustic moralist to die. 22. For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey,

This pleasing, anxious being e'er resign'd;
Left the warm

+ precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing, ling’ring look behind ? 23. On some fond breast the parting soul relies ;

Some pious drops the closing eye requires ;
E'en from the tomb the voice of nature cries,

E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires.
24. For thee, who, mindful of the unhonor'd dead,

Dost in these lines their artless tale relate,
If, chance, by lonely contemplation led,

Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, 25. Haply some hoary-headed swain may say,

Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn,
Brushing, with hasty step, the dews away,

To meet the sun upon the upland lawn. 26. 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 bubbles by. 27. Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn,

Mutt’ring his wayward fancies, he would rove;
Now, drooping, woeful, wan, like one forlorn,

Or crazed with care, or cross'd in hopeless love. 28. One morn, I miss'd him on the accustom'd hill,

Along the heath, and near his fav’rite tree;
Another came; nor yet beside the rill,

Nor up the lawn, nor at the woods was he. 29. The next, with + dirges due, in sad array,

Slow through the church-yard path, we saw him borne. Approach, and read (for thou canst read) the lay,

"Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.'

THE EPITAPH.

30. Here rests his head upon the lap of earth,

A youth to Fortune, and to Fame, unknown:

Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth

And Melancholy mark’d him for her own.
31. Large was his bounty, and his soul, sincere:

Heaven did a recompense as largely send :
He gave to Mis’ry all he had,- a tear;

He gain’d from Heav'n—'t was all he wish'd—a friend.
32. No further seek his merits to + disclose,

Or draw his frailties from their dread abode,
There they alike in trembling hope repose,)
The bosom of his Father, and his God.

GRAY

LESSON LXXXVI.S

AN EVENING ADVENTURE. 1. Not long since a gentleman was traveling in one of the counties of Virginia, and about the close of the day stopped at a public house to obtain refreshment and spend the night. He had been there but a short time, before an old man alighted from his gig, with the apparent intention of becoming his fellow guest at the same house.

2. As the old man drove up, he observed that both the shafts of his gig were broken, and that they were held together by withes, formed from the bark of a hickory sapling. Our traveler observed further, that he was plainly clad, that his knee-buckles were loosened, and that something like negligence pervaded his dress. Conceiving him to be one of the honest #yeomanry of our land, the courtesies of strangers passed between them, and they entered the tavern. It was about the same time, that an addition of three or four young gentlemen, was made to their number; most, if not all of them, of the legal profession.

3. As soon as they became conveniently accommodated, the conversation was turned, by one of the latter, upon the eloquent harangue which had that day been displayed at the bar. It was replied by the other, that he had witnessed, the same day, a degree of eloquence, no doubt equal, but it was from the pulpit

. Something like a + sarcastic rejoinder was made as to the eloquence of the pulpit, and a warm and able + altercation ensued, in which the merits of the Christian religion became the subject of discussion. From six o'clock until eleven, the young champions wielded the sword of argument, adducing with ingenuity and ability every thing that could be said

pro 4. During this protracted period, the old gentleman listened with the meekness and modesty of a child, as if he was adding new

a

and con.