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SLOTH.

"A LITTLE more sleep, a little more slumber,
A little more folding the hands to sleep,"
For quick-footed dreams, without order or number,
Over
my mind are beginning to creep,—
Rare is the happiness thus to be raptured
By your wild whispers, my Fanciful train,
And, like a linnet, be carelessly captured
In the soft nets of my beautiful brain!

Touch not these curtains!—your hand will be tearing
Delicate tissues of thoughts and of things;-
Call me not!-your cruel voice will be scaring
Flocks of young visions on gossamer wings :
Leave me, O leave me,—for in your rude presence
Nothing of all my bright world can remain,-
Thou art a blight to this garden of pleasance,

Thou art a blot on my beautiful brain !

Cease your

dull lecture on cares and employment,

Let me forget awhile trouble and strife,

Leave me to peace,-let me husband enjoyment,—
This is the heart and the marrow of life!
For to my feeling the choicest of pleasures
Is to lie thus, without peril or pain,
Lazily listening the musical measures

Of the sweet voice in my beautiful brain!

Hush, for the halo of calmness is spreading
Over my spirit, as mild as a dove ;
Hush,-for the angel of comfort is shedding
Over my body his vial of love.;

Hush,-for new slumbers are over me stealing,
Thus would I court them again and again,
Hush,-for my heart is intoxicate,-reeling
In the swift waltz of my beautiful brain!

ACTIVITY.

OPEN the casement, and up with the Sun!
His gallant journey is just begun ;

Over the hills his chariot is roll'd,

Banner'd with glory, and burnished with gold,
Over the hills he comes sublime,

Bridegroom of Earth, and brother of Time!

Day hath broken, joyous and fair;
Fragrant and fresh is the morning air,-
Beauteous and bright those orient hues,
Balmy and sweet these early dews ;
O, there is health, and wealth, and bliss
In dawning Nature's motherly kiss!

Lo, the wondering world awakes,

With its rosy-tipp'd mountains and gleaming lakes,
With its fields and cities, deserts and trees,
Its calm old cliffs, and its sounding seas,

In all their gratitude blessing HIM

Who dwelleth between the Cherubim !

Break away boldly from Sleep's leaden chain;
Seek not to forge that fetter again;

Rather, with vigour and resolute nerve,

Up, up, to bless man, and thy Master to serve,
Thankful and hopeful, and happy to raise

The offering of prayer, and the incense of praise!

Gird thee, and do thy watching well,

Duty's Christian sentinel !

Sloth and Slumber never had part

In the warrior's will, or the patriot's heart;

Soldier of God on an enemy's shore!

Slumber and sloth thrall thee no more.

ADVENTURE.

How gladly would I wander through some strange and savage land,

The lasso at my saddle-bow, the rifle in my hand,
A leash of gallant mastiffs bounding by my side,
And, for a friend to love, the noble horse on which I
ride!

Alone, alone-yet not alone, for God is with me

there,

The tender hand of Providence shall guide me everywhere,

While happy thoughts and holy hopes, as spirits calm and mild,

Shall fan with their sweet wings the hermit-hunter of

the wild!

Without a guide,-yet guided well,-young, buoyant, fresh and free,

Without a road,-yet all the land a highway unto

me,

Without a care, without a fear, without a grief or pain, Exultingly I thread the woods, or gallop o'er the plain!

Or, brushing through the copse, from his leafy home

I start

The stately elk, or tusky boar, the bison, or the hart, And then, -with eager spur, to scour, away, away, Nor stop,-until my dogs have brought the glorious brute to bay.

Or, if the

track,

gang of hungry wolves come yelling on my

I make my ready rifle speak, and scare the cowards

back;

Or, if the lurking leopard's eyes among the branches

shine,

A touch upon the trigger-and his spotted skin is mine!

And then the hunter's savoury fare at tranquil even

tide,

The dappled deer I shot to-day upon the green hill

side;

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