LESSON LXXXIV. THE PEARL-DIVER. 1. THOU hast been where the rocks of coral grow, Thou hast fought with eddying waves; Thy cheek is pale, and thy heart beats low, 2. Thou hast looked on the gleaming wealth of old, But thou its bar hast riven ! 3. A wild and weary life is thine, Though treasure-grots for thee may shine, 4. A weary life! but a swift decay Thou 'rt passing fast from thy toils away, 5. In thy dim eye, on thy hollow cheek, 6. And bright in beauty's coronal 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, 8. Woe for the wealth thus dearly bought !- Who win for earth, the gems of thought? 9. Down to the gulfs of the soul they go, 10. Wringing from lava-veins the fire 11. But oh! the price of bitter tears, That throws at last, o'er desert years, 12. Like flower-seeds, by the wild wind spread, The soul whence those high gifts are shed, 13. And who will think, when the strain is sung, What life-drops from the minstrel wrung, 14. None, none !-his treasures live like thine, Thou that hast been to the pearl's dark shrine, MRS. HEMANS. LESSON LXXXV. ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCH YARD. 1. THE curfew tolls'; the knell of parting day` ! The moping owl does to the moon complain 4. Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. 5. The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow, twitt'ring from the straw-built shed, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. 7. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield; Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke; How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke! 8. Let not ambition mock their useful toil, Their homely joys, and destiny obscure; 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, 11. Can storied urn or animated bust, Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? 12. Perhaps, in this neglected spot, is laid Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire; 13. But knowledge to their eyes her ample page, 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; 15. Some village Hampden, that, with dauntless breast, 17. Their lot forbade`; nor, circumscribed alone Their glowing virtues', but, their crimes confined; 18. The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide; 19. Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife, Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray: Along the cool, sequester'd vale of life, They kept the noiseless tenor of their way. 20. Yet e'en these bones, from insult to protect, With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck'd, 21. Their names, their years, spell'd by the unletter'd muse, 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, 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, THE EPITAPH. 30. Here rests his head upon the lap of earth, Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth, 31. Large was his bounty, and his soul, sincere: He gain'd from Heav'n-'twas all he wish'd-a friend. 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. 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 and con. 4. During this protracted period, the old gentleman_listened with the meekness and modesty of a child, as if he was adding |