6.

His hordes to fall upon thee. He shall send
Quaint maskers,' forms of fair and gallant mien,
To catch thy gaze, and uttering graceful words
To charm thy ear; while his sly imps, by stealth,
Twine round thee threads of steel, liglit thread on thread,
That grow to fetters; or bind down thy arms

With chains conceal'd in chaplets.

Oh! not yet
Mayst thou unbrace thy corslet, nor lay by
Thy sword, nor yet, O Freedom! close thy lids
In slumber; for thine enemy never sleeps.
And thou must watch and combat, till the day
Of the new Earth' and Heaven. But wouldst thou rest
Awhile from tumult and the frauds of men,
These old and friendly solitudes invite
Thy visit. They, while yet the forest trees
Were young upon the unviolated earth,
And yet the moss-stains on the rock were new,
Beheld thy glorious childhood, and rejoiced.

W. C. BRYANT.*

70. LIBERTY.

a

welcome, a joyous, a solemn thing. A The subjects of a A free people

LIBERTY, gentlemen, is a solemn thing a glorious thing, if you please; but it is free people must be a thoughtful people. despot may be reckless and gay if they can. must be serious; for it has to do the greatest thing that ever was done in the world-to govern itself.

2. That hour in human life is most serious, when it passes from parental control, into free manhood: then must the man bind the righteous law upon himself, more strongly than father or mother ever bound it upon him. And when a people leaves the leading-strings of prescriptive authority, and enters upon the ground of freedom, that ground must be fenced with law; it

'Måsk' ers.- Words (werdz).—3 Earth (8rth). See Biographical Sketch, p. 118.- World (werle'). —® Pår' ånt al.

must be tilled with wisdom; it must be hallowed with prayer. The tribunal of justice, the free school, the holy church, must be built there, to intrench, to defend, and to keep the sacred héritage.

3. Liberty, I repeat, is a solemn thing. The world, up to this time, has regarded it as a boon-not as a bond. And there is nothing, I seriously believe, in the present crises of human affairs-there is no point in the great human welfare, on which men's ideas so much need to be cleared up-to be advanced"— to be raised to a higher standard, as this grand and terrible responsibility of freedom.

4. In the universe there is no trust so awful as moral freedom; and all good civil freedom depends upon the use of that. But look at it. Around every human, every rational being, is drawn a circle; the space within is cleared from obstruction, or, at least, from all coërcion; it is sacred to the being himself who stands there; it is secured and consecrated to his own responsibility. May I say it?-God himself does not penetrate there with any absolute, any coërcive power! He compels the winds and waves to obey him; he compels animal instincts to obey him; but he does not compel man to obey. That sphere he leaves free; he brings influences to bear upon it; but the last, final, solemn, infinite question between right and wrong, he leaves to man himself.

5. Ah! instead of madly delighting in his freedom, I could imagine a man to protest, to complain, to tremble that such a tremendous prerogative is accorded to him. But it is accorded to him; and nothing but willing obedience can discharge that solemn trust; nothing but a heroism greater than that which fights battles, and pours out its blood on its country's altar-the heroism of self-renunciation and self-control.

6. Come that liberty! I invoke it with all the ardor of the poëts and orators of freedom; with Spenser and Milton, with

8

10

'Prayer (prår).—2 Church (chêrch).—There (thår).— Nothing (nůth'ing).- Affairs (af fårz').- Advanced (ad vânst').-' Circle (ser' kl).— P're rog'ative, an exclusive or peculiar privilege or right.-Edmund SPENSER, excepting Shakspeare, the greatest poet of his time, author of the "Faerie Queene," was born in London about 1553, where he died on the 16th of January, 1599 MILTON, See Biographical Sketch, p 582

10

Hampden' and Sydney,' with Rienzi3 and Dante,' with Hamilton' and Washington, I invoke it. Come that liberty! come none' that does not lead to that! Come the liberty that shall strike off every chain, not only of iron, and iron-law, but of painful constriction, of fear, of enslaving passion, of mad self-will; the liberty of perfect truth and love, of holy faith and glad obedience!

ORVILLE DEWEY."

71. SELECT PASSAGES IN VERSE.

I.

THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE.-BEATTIE.

Oh how canst thou renounce the boundless stōre
Of charms that nature to her votary yields?

'JOHN HAMPDEN, celebrated for his resistance to the imposition of taxes without authority of parliament, and to the royal prerogative of Charles I., commander of a troop in the parliamentary army, was born at London, in 1594, and was mortally wounded in an affair with Prince Rupert on 18th of June, 1643.-2 ALGERNON SYDNEY, second son of Robert, Earl of Leicester, England, was born about the year 1621. In early youth he fought in the ranks of the parliamentary forces. A thorough republican, he was inimical to all monarchy, and opposed to the ascendancy of Cromwell. He was abroad at the Restoration, and was permitted to return to England in 1677. For his supposed connection with the Ryehouse Plot, he was beheaded on the 7th of December, 1683. He met death with iron resolution. His very able " Discourses concerning Government" was a posthumous work.—3 RIENZI, the orator, famous in Roman history for his assumption of dictatorship in that capital, was born about 1310, and was distinguished by his love of the ancient republican institutions of Rome, and by his profound knowledge of antiquity. He was massacred on the 8th of October, 1354.- DANTE, the poet, author of the "Divina Commedia,' was born at Florence in 1265, and died at Ravenna in 1321.- ALEXANDER HAMILTON, distinguished as a statesman, jurist, soldier, and financier, one of the ablest officers of the American Revolution, was born in the West Indies, in 1757. In 1782 he was a member of Congress from New York In 1789. Washington, the first President, placed him at the head of the treasury. On the death of Washington, in 1799, his rank made him commander-inchief of the American army. He was challenged by Aaron Burr, and a duel was the consequence, in which he was mortally wounded, at the age of 47.- WASHINGTON, see note 2, p. 205.-' None (nůn) - —-” See Biographical Sketch, p. 176.

The warbling woodland, the resounding shōre, The pomp of groves, the garniture of fields; All that the geniäl ray of morning gilds, And all that echoes to the song of even, All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields, And all the dread magnificence of heaven, Oh how canst thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven?

II.

BEAUTY.-GAY.

What is the blooming tincture of the skin
To peace of mind and harmony within?
What the bright sparkling of the finest eye
To the soft soothing of a calm reply?
Can comeliness1 of form, or shape, or air,
With comeliness of words or deeds compare?
No! those at first the unwary heart may gain,
But these, these only, can the heart retain.

III.

THE POET.-SHAKSPEARE.

The poët's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,

Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven,
And, as imagination bodies forth

The forins of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.

IV.

FLOWERS.-HUNT.

We are the sweet flowers, born of sunny showers
⚫ (Think, whene'er you see us, what our beauty saith);
Utterance mute and bright, of some unknown delight,
We fill the air with pleasure by our simple breath;

All who see us love us,--we befit all places;
Unto sorrow we give smiles, and unto graces, graces.
Mark our ways, how noiseless all, and sweetly voiceless,

'Comeliness (kům' le nes). Nothing (nåth' ing).

Though the March winds pipe, to make our passage clear;
Not a whisper tells where our small seed dwells,

Nor is known the moment green when our tips appear.
We thread the earth in silence, in silence build our bowers,-
And leaf by leaf in silence show, till we laugh a-top, sweet flowers

V.

SUMMER WIND.-BRYANT.

It is a sultry day; the sun has drunk
The dew that lay upon the morning grass;
There is no rustling in the lofty elm
That canopies my dwelling, and its shade
Scarce cools me. All is silent, save the faint
And interrupted murmur of the bee,
Settling on the sick flowers, and then again
Instantly on the wing. The plants around
Feel the too potent fervors; the tall maize
Rolls up its long, green leaves; the clover droops
Its tender foliage, and declines its blooms.

But far in the fierce sunshine tower the hills,
With all their growth of woods, silent and stern,
As if the scorching heat and dazzling light
Were but an element they loved. Bright clouds,
Motionless pillars of the brazen heaven,—
Their bases on the mountains, their white tops
Shining in the far ether,-fire the air
With a reflected radiance, and make turn
The gazer's eye away. For me, I lie
Languidly in the shade, where the thick turf,
Yět virgin from the kisses of the sun,
Retains some freshness, and I woo the wind
That still delays its coming.

VI..

THE LAST ROSE OF SUMMER.-Moore.

'Tis the last rose of summer, left blooming alone,
All her lovely companions are faded and gone;
No flower of her kindred, no rose-bud, iɛ nigh,
To reflect back her blushes, or give sigh for sigh!