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GHT is the astronomer's accepted time; he goes to his delightful labors when the busy world goes to its rest. A dark pall spreads over the resorts of active life; terrestrial objects, hill and valley, and rock and stream, and the abodes of men disappear; but the curtain is drawn up which concealed the heavenly hosts.

I There they shine and there they move as they moved and shone to the eyes of 'Newton and Galileo, of Kepler and Copernicus, of Ptolemy and Hipparchus; yes, as they moved and shone when the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy. All has changed on earth; but the glorious heavens remain unchanged. The plow passes over the site of mighty cities; the homes of powerful nations are desolate; the languages they spoke are forgotten: but the stars that shone for them are shining for us; the same eclipses run their steady cycle; the same equinoxes call out the flowers of spring, and send the husbandman to the harvest; the sun pauses at either tropic as he did when his course began; and sun and moon, and planet and satellite, and star and constellation and galaxy, still bear witness to the power, the wisdom and the love which placed them in the heavens and upholds them there.

Edward Everett.

TO SENECA LAKE.

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"And round his breast the ripples break,
As down he bears before the gale."

The waves along thy pebbly shore, On thy fair bosom, silver lake!

As blows the north wind, heave their foam, Oh, I could ever sweep the oar,

And curl around the dashing oar. When early birds at morning wake,

As late the boatman hies him home. And evening tells us toil is o'er.

James Gates Pehcival.

Nature always springs to the surface, and manages to show what she is. It is vain to stop or try to drive her back. She breaks through every obstacle, pushes forward, and at last makes for herself a way.

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5ME ye, come ye, to the green, green wood;

Loudly the blackbird is singing.
The squirrel is feasting on blossom and bud,-
And the curling fern is springing:
Here ye may sleep
In the moss so deep,
While the noon is so warm and so weary,
And sweetly awake.
As the sun through the brake
Bids the fauvette and white-throat sing cheery.

The quicken is tufted with blossom of snow.

And is throwing its perfume around it;
The wryneck replies to the cuckoo's halloo
For joy that again she has found it;
The jay's red breast
Peeps over her nest,
In the midst of the crab-blossoms blushing;
And the call of the pheasant
Is frequent and pleasant,
When all other calls are hushing.

William Howitt.

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Nature imitates herself. A grain thrown into good ground brings forth fruit; a principle thrown into a good mind brings forth fruit. Everything is created and conducted by the same Master; the root, the branch, the fruits;—the principles, the consequences.

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||HE various productions of Nature were not made for us to tread upon, nor only to feed our eyes with their grateful variety, or to bring a sweet odor to us; but there is a more internal beauty in them for our minds

to prey upon, did we but penetrate beyond the surface of these things into their hidden properties.

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