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All vanished is the brief eclipse!
But lo! the height of pure delight
Comes with the evening's stainless joys, When by the hearthstone spaces bright
Blend the glad tones of girls and boys; Their voices rise in gleeful swells, Their laughter rings like eltin bells, Till with a look 'twixt smile and frown The mother lays her infant down, And at her firm, uplifted hand, There's silence 'mid the jovial band;
Her signal stills their harmless strife —
Ye dames in proud, palatial halls —
Pall Hamilton Iiayne.
GREENLY and fair in the lands of the sun,
Like that which o'er Nineveh's prophet once grew,
On the banks of the Xenil, the dark Spanish maiden
Yet with dearer delight from his home in the North,
Ah! on Thanksgiving Day. when from East and from West,
From North and from South come the pilgrim and guest.
When the grey-haired New-Englander sees round his board
The old broken links of affection restored,
When the care-wearied man seeks his mother once more,
And the worn matron smiles where the girl smiled before,
What moistens the lip and what brightens the eye? What calls back the past, like the rich pumpkin-pie?
O, fruit loved of boyhood! the old days recalling; When wood-grapes were purpling and brown nuts
were falling! When wild, ugly faces we carved in its skin. Glaring out through the dark with a candle within! When we laughed round the corn-heap, with hearts
all in tune,
Our chair a broad pumpkin, our lantern the moon.
Telling tales of the fairy who traveled like steam
In a pumpkin-shell coach, with two rats for her team!
Then thanks for thy present!— none sweeter or better
John Greenleaf Whittier.
HEAR the wood-thrush piping one mellow descant more.
And scent the flowers that blow when the heat of day is o'er.
iATH not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods
More free from perils than the envious court?
Six white eggs on a bed of hay,
Flecked with purple, a pretty sight! There as the mother sits all day, .Robert is singing with all his might: Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; Nice good wife, that never goes out, Keeping house while I frolic about.
Chee, ehee, chee.
Soon as the little ones chip the shell
Six wide mouths are open for food; Robert of Lincoln bestirs him well, Gathering seed for the hungry brood. Bob-o'-link. bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; This new life is likely to be Hard for a gay young fellow like me.
Chee, chee, ehee.
Robert of Lincoln at length is mad(;
Sober with work, and silent with care;
Chee, ehee, chee.
Summer wanes; the children are grown;
Fun and frolic no more he knows;
Chee, chee, chee.
ON THE BANKS OF THE TENNESSEE.
SIT by the open window
And look to the hills away, Over beautiful undulations
That glow with the flowers of May — And as the lights and the shadows
With the passing moments change, C Hues many a scene of beauty
Within my vision's range — But there is not one among them
That is half so dear to me, As an old log-cabin I think of
On the banks of the Tennessee.
Now up from the rolling meadows,
Fresh breezes steal in at my window,
And the sounds that they gather and bring me,
From rivulet, and meadow, and hill.
And my throbbing bosom fill —
And in tears brought back to me.
On the banks of the Tennessee.
To many a fond remembrance
My thoughts are backward cast, As I sit by the open window
And recall the faded past —
Of the ever-moving years.
That I now behold through tears—
Hopes and flowers that, dead or dying.
All the winter lay.
Ah! my heart is pained with throbbing.
Glide the streams away.
Waiting sad, dejected, weary,
Life still ebbs away;
Denis Flokence Mac-ca.i:tiiy.
GRICULTURE is the greatest among the arts, for it is first in supplying our necessities. It is the mother and nurse of all other arts. It favors and strengthens population; it creates and maintains manufactures, gives employment to navigation and materials to commerce. It animates every species of industry, and opens to nations the surest channels of opulence. It is also the strongest bond of well regulated society, the surest basis of internal peace, the natural associate of good morals.
We ought to count among the benefits of agriculture the charm which the practice of it communicates to a country life. That charm which has made the country, in our own view, the retreat of the hero, the asylum of the sage, and the temple of the historic muse. The strong desire, the longing after the country, with which we find the bulk of mankind to be penetrated, points to it as the chosen abode of sublunary bliss. The sweet occupations of culture with her varied products and attendant enjoyments are, at least, a relief from the stifling atmosphere of the city, the monotony of subdivided employments, the anxious uncertainty of commerce, the vexations of ambition so often disappointed, of self-love so often mortified, of factitious pleasures and unsubstantial vanities.
"We deplore the disposition of young men to <?et away from their farm homes to our larger cities, where they are subject to difficulties and temptations, which, but too often, they fail to overcome.
Depend upon it, if you would hold your sons and brothers back from roaming
! my heart is weary waiting,
Scent the dewy way.
Ah! my heart is sick with longing,
To the summer's day.
Ah! my heart is sore with sighing,
away into the perilous centres, you must steadily make three attempts—to abate the taskwork of farming, to raise maximum crops and profits, and to surround your work with the exhilaration of intellectual progress. You must elevate the whole spirit of your vocation for your vocation's sake, till no other can outstrip it in what most adorns and strengthens a civilized state.