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The vaulted void of purple sky
That everywhere extends,
That stretches from the dazzled eye,
In space that never ends;
A morning whose uprisen sun
No setting e'er shall see;
A day that comes without a noon–
Such is Eternity.
It came with spring's soft sun and showers,
Mid bursting buds and blushing flowers;
It flourish'd on the same light stem,
It drank the same clear dews with them.
The crimson tints of summer morn
That gilded one, did each adorn.
The breeze that whisper'd light and brief
To bud or blossom, kiss'd the leaf;
When o'er the leaf the tempest flew,
The bud and blossoin trembled too.
But its companions pass'd away,
And left the leaf to lone decay.
The gentle gales of spring went by,
The fruits and flowers of summer die.
The autumn winds swept o'er the hill,
And winter's breath came cold and chill.
The leaf now yielded to the blast,
And on the rushing stream was cast.
Far, far it glided to the sea,
And whirled and eddied wearily,
Till suddenly it sank to rest,
And slumber'd in the ocean's breast.
Thus life begins — its morning hous,
Bright as the birthday of the flowers-
Thus passes like the leaves away,
As wither'd and as lost as they.
Beneath the parent roof we meet
In joyous groups, and gaily greet
The golden beams of love and light,
That kindle to the youthful sight.
But soon we part, and one by one,
Like leaves and flowers, the group is gone.
One gentle spirit seeks the tomb,
His brow yet fresh with childhood's bloom.
Another treads the paths of fame,
And barters peace to win a name.
Another still tempts fortune's wave,
And seeking wealth, secures a grave.
The last grasps yet the brittle thread–
Though friends are gone and joy is dead,
Still dares the dark and fretful tide,
And clutches at its power and pride,
Till suddenly the waters sever,
And like the leaf he sinks forever,
THE BROOK AND THE FOUNTAIN.
A Fount AIN varied gambols play'd,
Close by a humble brook;
While gently murmuring through the glade,
Its peaceful course it took. -
Perhaps it gave one envious gaze
Upon the fountain's height,
While glittering in the morning rays,
In all the colors of the sky,
Alternately it shone :
The brook observed it with a sigh,
But quietly roll'd on.
The owner of the fountain died;
Neglect soon brought decay;
The bursting pipes were ill-supplied;
The fountain ceased to play.
But still the brook its peaceful course
Continued to pursue ;
Her ample, inexhausted source,
From nature’s fount she drew.
“Now,” said the Brook, “I bless my fate,
My shewy rival gone;
Contented in its native state
My little stream rolls on.
“And all the world has cause, indeed,
To own, with gratesul heart,
How much great nature's works excel
The feeble works of art,”
Humble usefulness is preferable to idle splendor.
NEver form a resolution, that is not a good one and when once formed, never break it. If you form a resolution, and then break it, you set yourself a bad example, and you are very likely to follow it. A person may get the habit of breaking his resolutions; this is as bad to the character and mind, as an incurable disease to the body. No person can become great, but by keeping his resolutions; no person ever escaped contempt, who could not keep them. If any of my young friends resolve to read this book through, as proposed in the introduction, I hope they will not sail to do so, unless they have good reasons for it.
A YouNG wolf said aloud, To the listening crowd, “I may well of my father's great courage be proud; Wherever he came, Flock, shepherd, or dame, All trembled, and fled at the sound of his name. Did any one spy My papa coming by, Two hundred or more, —Oh! he made them all fly! One day, by a blow, He was conquer'd, l know; But no wonder at last he should yield to a foe: