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No! imaged in the sanctuary of your breast,

There let me smile, amidst high thoughts at rest;

And let contentment on your spirit shine,

As if its peace were still a part of mine:
For if you war not proudly with your pain,
For you
I shall have worse than lived in vain.
But I conjure your manliness to bear
My loss with noble spirit-not despair:

I ask you by our love to promise this,

And kiss these words, where I have left a kiss,-The latest from my living lips for yours."

Words that will solace him while life endures: For though his spirit from affliction's surge Could ne'er to life, as life had been, emerge,

Yet still that mind whose harmony elate
Rang sweetness, ev'n beneath the crush of fate,-
That mind in whose regard all things were placed
In views that soften'd them, or lights that graced,―
That soul's example could not but dispense
A portion of its own bless'd influence;

Invoking him to peace, and that self-sway

Which Fortune cannot give, nor take away:

And though he mourn'd her long, 'twas with such woe,

As if her spirit watch'd him still below.




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"That gave the glacier tops their richest glow."

THE sight of the glaciers of Switzerland, I am told, has often disappointed travellers who had perused the accounts of their splendour and sublimity given by Bourrit and other describers of Swiss scenery. Possibly Bourrit, who has spent his life in an enamoured familiarity with the beauties of Nature in Switzerland, may have leaned to the romantic side of description. One can pardon a man for a sort of idolatry of those imposing objects of Nature which heighten our ideas of the bounty of Nature or Providence, when we reflect that the glaciers-those seas of ice-are not only sublime but useful they are the inexhaustible reservoirs which supply the principal rivers of Europe; and their annual melting is in proportion to the summer heat which dries up those rivers and makes them need that supply.

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