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his mind, could he have known that he had indeed discovered a new continent, equal to the whole of the old world in magnitūde, and separated, by two vast oceans, from all the earth hitherto known by civilized man! And how would his magnanimous spirit have been consoled, amid the chills of age and cares of penury, the neglect of a fickle public and the injustice of an ungrateful king, could he have anticipated the splendid empires which were to spread over the beautiful world he had discovered, and the nations and tongues and languages which were to fill its lands with his renown, and to revere and bless his name to the latest posterity!


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She was an only child, her name Ginevra,-
The joy, the pride, of an indulgent father,-
And in her fifteenth year became a bride,
Marrying an only son, Francesco Doria,
Her playmate from her birth, and her first love.
She was all gentleness, all gayety, .
Her pranks the favorite theme of every tongue.

But now the day was come, – the day, the hour;
Now frowning, smiling, for the hundredth time,
The nurse, that ancient lady, preached decorum;
And, in her shining youth, Ginevra gave
Her hand, with her heart in it, to Francesco.

Great was the joy ; but at the nuptial feast,
When all sat down, the bride herself was wanting;
Nor was she to be found! Her father cried,

"'Tis but to make a trial of our love !
And filled his glass to all ; but his hand shook,
And soon from guest to guest the panic spread.
'T was but that instant she had left Francesco,
Laughing and looking back, and flying still,
Her ivory tooth imprinted on his finger;
But now, alas ! she was not to be found;
Nor, from that hour, could any thing be guessed,
But that she was not!
Weary of his life,
Francesco flew to Venice, and, embarking,
Flung it away in battle with the Turk.
The father lived, and long might you have seen
An old man wandering as in quest of something,
Something he could not find, he knew not what.
When he was dead, the house remained a while
Silent and tenantless ; then went to strangers.
Full fifty years were past, and all forgotten,
When, on an idle day,- a day of search,
'Mid the old lumber in the gallery,
A mouldering chest was noticed, and 't was said,
By one as young, as thoughtless, as Ginevra,
“ Why not remove it from its lurking-place ?"
'Twas done as soon as said ; but, on the way,
It burst — it fell ; and, lo! a skeleton,
With here and there a pearl, an emerald stone,
A golden clasp clasping a shred of gold !
All else had perished, save a wedding ring,
And a small seal, her mother's legacy,
Engraven with a name,- the name of both,Ginevra
There, then, she had found a grave!
Within that chest had she concealed herself,
Fluttering with joy, the happiest of the happy,
When a spring-lock, that lay in ambush there,
Fastened her down forever !

SAMUEL ROGERS. (1760 — 1857.)

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There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,

There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,

By the deep sea, and music in its roar.
I love not man the less, but nature more,

From these our interviews, in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before,

To mingle with the universe, and feel
What I can ne'er express, yet can not all conceal.

Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean - roll !

Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ;
Man marks the earth with ruin ; — his control

Stops with the shore ; — upon the watery plain
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain

A shadow of man's ravage, save his own,
When, for a moment, like a drop of rain,

He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined, and unknowu.

The armaments which thunderstrike the walls

Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake,
And monarchs tremble in their capitols,-

The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make
Their clay creator the vain title take

Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war;
These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake,

They melt into thy yest of waves, which mar
Alike the armada's pride, or spoils of Trafalgar.

Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee;

Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they? Thy waters wasted them while they were free,

And many a tyrant since ; their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage ; their decay

Has dried up realms to deserts :— not so thou, Unchangeable, save to thy wild waves' play ;

Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow,Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.

Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form

Glasses itself in tempests ; in all time,
Calm or convulsed — in breeze, or gale, or storm -

Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime
Dark-heaving; boundless, endless, and sublime -

The image of eternity - the throne
Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime

The monsters of the deep are made ; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone! And I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy

Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Börne, like thy bubbles, onward : from a boy

I wantoned with thy breakers : they to me Were a delight; and if the freshening sea

Made them a terror, 't was a pleasing fear,
For I was, as it were, a child of thee,

And trusted to thy billows far and near,
And laid my hand upon thy mane - as I do here.


Be brave, be just; and, when your country's laws
Call you to witness in a dubious cause,
Though Power should plant his rack before your eye,
And, frowning, dictate to your lips the lie,
Think it a crime no tears can e'er efface
To purchase safety with compliance base,
At honor's cost, a feverish span extend,
And sacrifice, for life, life's only end ! — GIFFORD.

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1. EVERY morning we enter upon a new day, that carries an unknown future in its bosom. How stirring the reflection! Thoughts may be born to-day, which may never die. Feelings may be awakened today, which may never be extinguished. Hopes may be excited to-day, which may never expire. Acts may be performed to-day, the consequence of which may not be reälized till eternity.

2. There is something solemn and awful in the consideration that there is not an act nor a thought in the life of a human being, that does not carry with it a train of consequences, the end of which we may never trace. We all, to a certain extent, influence the lives and minds of those about us. The good deed or thought will live, even though we may not see it fructify; but so will the bad; and no person is so insignificant as to be sure that his example will not do good on the one hand, or evil on the other.

3. There is, indeed, an element of immortality in the life of man, even in this world. No individual in the universe stands alone ; he is a compo'nent part of a system of mutual dependences; and by his several acts he either increases or diminishes the sum of human good now and forever. As the present is rooted in the past, and the lives and examples of our fore.. fathers still to a great extent influence us, so are we by our daily acts contributing to form the condition and character cf the future.

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