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2. How strikingly the course of nature tells, By its light heed of human suffering,

That it was fashioned for a happier world!

3. King David's limbs were weary. He had fled From far Jerusalem; and now he stood,

With his faint people, for a little rest

Upon the shore of Jordan. The light wind
Of morn was stirring, and he bared his brow
To its refreshing breath; for he had worn
The mourner's covering, and had not felt
That he could see his people until now.
They gathered round him on the fresh green bank,
And spoke their kindly words; and, as the sun
Rose up in heaven, he knelt among them there,
And bowed his head upon his hands to pray.

4. Oh! when the heart is full-when bitter thoughts
Come crowding thickly up for utterance,

And the poor, common words of courtesy
Are such a very mockery-how much

The bursting heart may pour itself in prayer!

5. He prayed for Israel; and his voice went up Strongly and fervently. He prayed for those Whose love had been his shield; and his deep tones

Grew tremulous. But oh! for Absalom

For his estranged, misguided Absalom

The proud, bright being, who had burst away,

In all his princely beauty, to defy

The heart that cherished him-for him he poured,

In agony that would not be controlled,

Strong supplication, and forgave him there,

for his deep sinfulness.

6. The pall was settled. He who slept beneath
Was straightened for the grave; and as the folds
Sunk to the still proportions, they betrayed
The matchless symmetry of Absalom.
His hair was yet unshorn, and silken curls
Were floating round the tassels, as they swayed
To the admitted air, as glossy now

As when, in hours of gentle dalliance, bathing
The snowy fingers of Judea's girls.

7. His helm was at his feet; his banner, soiled
With trailing through Jerusalem, was laid,
Reversed, beside him; and the jeweled hilt,
Whose diamonds lit the passage of his blade,
Rested, like mockery, on his covered brow.

8. The soldiers of the king trod to and fro,
Clad in the garb of battle; and their chief,
The mighty Joab, stood beside the bier,
And gazed upon the dark pall steadfastly,
As if he feared the slumberer might stir.

9.

A slow step startled him. He grasped his blade As if a trumpet rang; but the bent form

Of David entered, and he gave command,

In a low tone, to his few followers,

And left him with his dead.

The king stood still Till the last echo died; then, throwing off The sackcloth from his brow, and laying back The pall from the still features of his child, He bowed his head upon him, and broke forth In the resistless eloquence of woe:

11. "Cold is thy brow, my son! and I am chill. As to my bosom I have tried to press thee, How was I wont to feel my pulses thrill,

Like a rich harp string, yearning to caress thee, And hear thy sweet 'My father!' from these dumb And cold lips, Absalom!

12. "The grave hath won thee. I shall hear the gush
Of music, and the voices of the young;
And life shall pass me in the mantling blush,
And the dark tresses to the soft winds flung;
But thou no more, with thy sweet voice, shalt come
To meet me, Absalom!

13. "And, oh! when I am stricken, and my heart,
Like a bruised reed, is waiting to be broken,
How will its love for thee, as I depart,

Yearn for thine ear to drink its last deep token!
It were so sweet, amid death's gathering gloom,
To see thee, Absalom!

14. "And now, farewell! 'Tis hard to give thee up,
With death so like a gentle slumber on thee-
And thy dark sin!-oh, I could drink the cup,
If from this woe its bitterness had won thee.
lled thee, like a wanderer, home,

15. He covered up his face, and bowed himself
A moment on his child; then, giving him
A look of melting tenderness, he clasped
His hands convulsively, as if in prayer;
And, as if strength were given him of God,
He rose up calmly, and composed the pall
Firmly and decently, and left him there,
As if his rest had been a breathing sleep.

N. P. Willis.

Trace on your map

FOR PREPARATION.-I. See 2 Samuel xviii. 33. the course of the Jordan. Find the location of the wood of Ephraim, where Absalom was killed (northeast of Jerusalem), and Mahanaim, in Gilead (thirty-three miles northeast of the Dead Sea), where David's headquarters were, and where his lament takes place. Paragraphs 1 to 5 relate what took place before the battle, and 6 to 15 what took place after it.

II. Vail (veil and vāle), ěd'-dieş, ǎt'-ti-tūdeş, eōurse, mōurn'-er, cour'-te-sy (kûr'-), trěm'-u-loŭs, eon-trōlled', straight'-ened (strāt′nd), sym'-me-try, tǎs'-selş, dăl'-li-ance, jew'-eled (jū'eld), biēr (beer), stĕad'făst-ly, sǎek'elŏth, fēa'-tureş, yearn'-ing, bruişed (bruzd).

III. Describing-words are often formed by adding the suffix ful to name-words-faith-ful, tear-ful, etc.; also by adding the suffix ous—as, peril-ous (ous and ful mean nearly the same); also by adding less-as, careless. Write out ten words of each formation, and after each write the meaning given to the word by the suffix.

IV. Waters slept, lifting winds, fashioned, estranged, supplication, "straightened for the grave," unshorn, dalliance, sackcloth, mantling.

V. What flowers do you know of that grow in the water and rest on its surface? "That it was fashioned for a happier world" (2) (i. e., one could find no indication in nature of the great trouble among the people at the rebellion of Absalom). "And he (i. e., Joab) gave command in a low tone." "Life shall pass me in the mantling blush, and the dark tresses," etc. (i. e., life shall pass by me in the shape of young people whose cheeks mantle with blushes, and whose tresses, etc.). The poet or dramatist often selects for his theme some incident belonging to a remote locality and period of time. Sometimes he endeavors to portray the external manners, or the modes of thought and expression, actually as they existed historically in the place and time of the event described. Sometimes he borrows only the external form (names, places, costume, etc.) from that place and time, and portrays the

modes of thought, feeling, and expression of his own modern time and place. The behavior, feelings, thoughts, and expressions of the persons in this poem, as well as the style of description and reflections upon nature, are all quite modern, and such as respectable and cultivated people in New York might indulge in.

L. THE BLIND PREACHER

1. It was one Sunday, as I traveled through the county of Orange, that my eye was caught by a cluster of horses tied near a ruinous old wooden house in the forest, not far from the roadside. Having frequently seen such objects before, in traveling through these States, I had no difficulty in understanding that this was a place of religious worship. Devotion alone should have stopped me, to join in the duties of the congregation; but I must confess that curiosity to hear the preacher of such a wilmy motives. derness was not the least of

2. On entering, I was struck with his preternatural appearance. He was a tall and very spare old man; his head, which was covered with a white linen cap, his shriveled hands, and his voice, were all shaking under the influence of a palsy; and a few moments ascertained to me that he was perfectly blind.

3. The first emotions which touched my breast were those of mingled pity and veneration; but, ah! how soon were all my feelings changed! It was a day of the ad ministration of the Sacrament; and his subject, of course, was the passion of our Savior.

4. I had heard the subject handled a thousand times; I had thought it exhausted long ago. Little did I suppose that, in the wild woods of America, I was to meet would give to this topic a