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2. How the winters are drifting, like flakes of snow,
And the summers, like buds between;

And the year in the sheaf-so they come and they go,
On the river's breast, with its ebb and flow,
As it glides in the shadow and sheen.

3. There's a magical isle up the river of Time,
Where the softest of airs are playing;
There's a cloudless sky and a tropical clime,
And a song as sweet as a vesper chime,

And the Junes with the roses are staying.

4. And the name of that Isle is the Long Ago,
And we bury our treasures there;

There are brows of beauty and bosoms of snow—
There are heaps of dust-but we loved them so !—
There are trinkets and tresses of hair;

5. There are fragments of song that nobody sings,
And a part of an infant's prayer;

There's a lute unswept, and a harp without strings
There are broken vows and pieces of rings,

And the garments that she used to wear.

6. There are hands that are waved, when the fairy shore
By the mirage is lifted in air;

-And we some times hear, through the turbulent roar,
Sweet voices we heard in the days gone before,

When the wind down the river is fair.

7. O, remembered for aye, be the blessed Isle,
All the day of our life till night-

When the evening comes with its beautiful smile,
And our eyes are closing to slumber awhile,
May that "Greenwood" of Soul be in sight!

L.-TIME'S MIDNIGHT VOICE.

EDWARD YOUNG.

1. CREATION sleeps. "T is as the general pulse
Of life stood still, and Nature made a pause,

An awful pause! prophetic of her end.

The bell strikes one. We take no note of time,
But from its loss. To give it, then, a tongue,
Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke,

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It is the knell of my departed hours.

Where are they? With the years beyond the flood!
It is the signal that demands despatch:

2. How much is to be done! My hopes and fears
Start up alarmed, and o'er life's narrow verge
Look down-on what? a fathomless abyss!
A dread eternity! How surely mine!
And can eternity belong to me,

Poor pensioner on the bounties of an hour?
How poor, how rich, how abject, how august,
How complicate, how wonderful, is man!
How passing wonder He who made him such!
Who centred in our make such strange extremes
From different natures marvellously mixed,
Connection exquisite of distant worlds!..

3. Distinguished link in being's endless chain!
Midway from nothing to the Deity!
A beam ethereal, sullied, and absorpt!
Though sullied, and dishonored, still divine
Dim miniature of greatness absolute !
An heir of glory! a frail child of dust!
Helpless immortal! insect infinite!

A worm! a god!—I tremble at myself,
And in myself am lost! At home a stranger,
Thought wanders up and down, surprised, aghast,
And wondering at her own: how Reason reels!

4. O what a miracle to man is man,

Triumphantly distressed! What joy, what dread
Alternately transported, and alarmed!

What can preserve my life, or what destroy?
An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave;
Legions of angels can't confine me there!
Even silent night proclaims my soul immortal!

LI. THE COMMON LOT.

1. ONCE, in the flight of ages past,

JAMES MONTGOMERY.

There lived a man; and Who was He?

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LII. THE ATLANTIC TELEGRAPH.

[Successfully laid between Europe and America July 27, 1866.]

1. GLORY to God above!

The Lord of life and love!

GEO. LANSING TAYLOR.

Who makes his curtains clouds and waters dark;
Who spreads his chambers on the deep,
While all its armies silence keep,

Whose hand of old, world-rescuing, steered the ark;
Who led Troy's bands exiled,

And Genoa's god-like child,

And Mayflower, grandly wild,

And now has guided safe a grander bark
Who, from her iron loins

Has spun the thread that joins

Two yearning worlds made one with lightning spark.

2. Praise God! praise God! praise God!

The sea obeyed his rod,

What time his saints marched down its deeps of yore;
And now for Commerce, Science, Peace,
Redemption, Freedom, Love's increase,
He bids great ocean's barriers cease.

While flames celestial flash from shore to shore!
And nations pause 'mid battles' deadliest roar,
Till Earth's one heart swells upward and brims o'er
With thanks! thanks! thanks and praise!
To him who lives always!

Who reigns through endless days!

While halleluias sweet

Roll up as incense meet,

And all Earth's crowns are cast before his feet!

3. "And there was no more sea,"

Who "

Spake in rapt vision he

a new heaven and a new earth" beheld, And lo! we see the day

That ends its weltering sway,

And weds the nations, long asunder held!

Ten years of toil, of failure, fear,
Thousands to scorn and few to cheer,
What are they now to ears that hear,
To eyes that see their triumph near!

When lightning flames the ends of earth shall weld,
And wrong and right, by lightning beams dispelled,
Shall lift from all man's race,

And God the Father's face

Shall smile o'er all the world millennial grace!

4. FRANKLIN! and MORSE! and FIELD!
Great shades of centuries yield!

Make way for these in your sublimest throng!
Heroes of blood, great in immortal wrong,
Stoop your helmed heads and blush! O seers of song,
Of blood and strife no longer sing;

In heavenlier transport smite the string,
Soar, soar on purer, rapter wing,
Till all the throbbing azure ring

The song that erst began :

"Good will and peace toward man,"
Redeemed and bought with blood,
One mighty brotherhood!

And every bond that brings heart nearer heart,
Shall bring man nearer God, and bear a part
In that great work benign,

The work of love, that makes all worlds divine!

LIII.-THE GLADIATOR.

1. STILLNESS reigned in the vast amphitheater, and from the countless thousands that thronged the spacious inclosure, not a breath was heard. Every tongue was mute with suspense, and every eye strained with anxiety toward the gloomy portal, where the gladiator was momentarily expected to enter. At length the trumpet sounded, and they led him forth into the broad arena. There was no mark of fear upon his manly countenance, as with majestic step and fearless eye he entered. He stood there, like another Apollo, firm and unbending as the rigid oak. His fine proportioned form was matchless, and his turgid muscles spoke his giant strength.

2. "I am here," he cried, as his proud lip curled in scorn, "to glut the savage eyes of Rome's proud populace.

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