8. He springs from his hammock, || he flies to the deck; Amazement confronts him' || with images dire'; Wild winds and mad waves || drive the vessel a wreck, The masts fly in splinters', || the shrouds are on fire! 9. Like mountains' the billows | tumultuously swell', In vain the lost wretch' || calls on mercy to save1; Unseen hands of spirits || are ringing his knell', And the death-angel flaps || his broad wings o'er the wave. 10. Oh, Sailor-boy'! | woe to thy dream of delight! In darkness dissolves the gay frost-work of bliss; Where now is the picture || that Fancy touched bright; Thy parents' fond pressure, || and love's honeyed kiss1? 11. Oh, Sailor-boy'! Sailor-boy'! || never again Shall home', love', or kindred', thy wishes repay`; Or redeem form or fame from the merciless surge; 13. On beds of green sea-flower' thy limbs shall be laid`, 14. Days', months, years`, and ages', I shall circle away', Earth loses thy pattern || forever and aye'; Oh, Sailor-boy'! Sailor-boy'! | peace to thy soul. DIMOND. LESSON XXXII. MARY, THE MAID OF THE INN. 1. WHERE is she, the poor maniac, whose wildly-fixed eyes' She weeps not', yet often and deeply she sighs; 2. No aid', no compassion', the maniac will seek`; Through the rags do the winds of the winter blow bleak' 3. Yet cheerful and happy', nor distant the day', The traveler remembers, who journeyed this way', As Mary, the Maid of the Inn. 4. Her cheerful address filled the guests with delight', When the wind whistled down the dark aisle. 5. She loved'; and young Richard had settled the day', And she hoped' to be happy for life': But Richard was idle' and worthless'; and they 6. 'Twas in autumn', and stormy and dark was the night, And fast were the windows and door'; Two guests sat enjoying the fire that burned bright; 7. ""Tis pleasant," cried one," seated by the fire-side', To hear the wind whistle without." "A fine night for the Abbey!" his comrade replied: 8. "I myself, like a school-boy, should tremble to hear 9. "I'll wager a dinner," the other one cried, "That Mary' would venture there now:" 10. "Will Mary this charge on her courage allow' ?" "I shall win, for I know' she will venture there now, 11. With fearless good-humor' did Mary comply', 12. O'er the path so well known', still proceeded the maid, Where the Abbey rose dim on the sight`; Through the gateway', she entered; she felt not afraid; Seemed to deepen' the gloom of the night`. 13. All around her was silent', save when the rude blast Over weed-covered fragments' still fearless she passed', Where the alder-tree' grew in the aisle. 14. Well pleased did she reach it, and quickly drew near, When the sound of a voice seemed to rise on her ear; 15. The wind blew, the hoarse ivy shook over her head': The wind ceased', her heart sunk in her bosom with dread, 16. Behind a wide column, half breathless with fear', That instant, the moon o'er a dark cloud shone clear', It blew off the hat of the one, and behold', 18. "Stop! the hat!" he exclaims; "Nay', come on, and fast hide' 19. She ran with wild speed', she rushed in at the door', Her limbs could support their faint burden no more'; 20. Ere yet her pale lips could her story impart', Hér eyes from that object convulsively start`, For, Ŏ Heaven! what cold horror thrilled through her heart, 21. Where the old Abbey stands, on the common hard by', Not far from the inn', it engages the eye; The traveler beholds it, and thinks with a sigh', Of poor Mary, the Maid of the Inn'. SOUTHEY. LESSON XXXIII. MIDNIGHT MASS FOR THE DYING YEAR. 1. YES, the year is growing old, And his eye is pale and bleared'; 2. The leaves are falling`, falling', Caw! caw! the rooks are calling, 3. Through woods and mountain-passos' 4. The hooded clouds, like friars', 5. There he stands, in the foul weather, A king,—a king! 6. Then comes the summer-like day, His joy! his last! O, the old man gray 7. To the crimson woods he saith, Of the soft air', like a daughter's breath', Do not laugh at me! 8. And now', the sweet day is dead'; No stain from its breath is spread No mist or stain'! 9. Then, too, the Old Year dieth, And the forests utter a moan', Vex not his ghost! 10. Then comes, with an awful roar', 11. Howl! howl! and from the forest' 12. For there shall come a mightier blast', Kyrie Eleyson! Christe Eleyson!† LONGFELLOW. LESSON XXXIV. THE SOLDIER'S REST. 1. SOLDIER', rest! || thy warfare o'er', Sleep the sleep' that knows not breaking; Days of danger', || nights of waking`. In our isle's enchanted hall', Hands unseen || thy couch are strewing, Fairy strains of music' || fall, Every sense' in slumber dewing'. Sleep the sleep || that knows not breaking; Morn of toil', || nor night of waking'. 2. No rude sound shall reach thine ear', Here's no war-steed's neigh and champing', *See Rule II-1. Remark. These words mean, "Lord, have mercy! Christ, have mercy!" |