ODE TO THE PASSIONS.

When Music, heavenly maid, was young,
While yet in early Greece she sung,
The Passions oft, to hear her shell,
Throng'd around her magic cell,—
Exulting, trembling, raging, fainting,
Possessed beyond the Muse's painting;
By turns, they felt the glowing mind
Disturbed, delighted, raised, refined:
Till once, 'tis said, when all were fired,
Filled with fury, rapt, inspired,
From the supporting myrtles round,
They snatched her instruments of sound;
And, as they oft had heard apart
Sweet lessons of her tuneful art,

Each for Madness ruled the hour-
Would prove his own expressive power.

First, Fear, his hand, its skill to try,
Amid the chords bewildered laid;
And back recoiled, he knew not why,
E'en at the sound himself had made.-

Next Anger rushed his eyes on fire,

In lightnings owned his secret stings;
With one rude clash he struck the lyre,
And swept, with hurried hand, the strings.

With woeful measures, wan Despair
Low, sullen sounds his grief beguiled;
A solemn, strange, and mingled air;

'Twas sad by fits- by starts, 'twas wild.

But thou, O Hope! with eyes so fair-.
What was thy delighted measure?

Still it whispered promised pleasure,
And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail;
Still would her touch the strain prolong;
And from the rocks, the woods, the vale,
She called on Echo still through all her song;
And where her sweetest theme she chose,
A soft responsive voice was heard at every close;
And Hope, enchanted, smiled, and waved
her golden hair.

And longer had she sung, but with a frown
Revenge impatient rose.

He threw his blood-stained sword in thunder down,

And with a withering look,

The war-denouncing trumpet took, And blew a blast so loud and dread,

Were ne'er prophetic sounds so full of woe;

And ever and anon, he beat

The doubling drum with furious heat, And though, sometimes, each dreary pause between,

Dejected Pity, at his side,

Her soul-subduing voice applied;

Yet still he kept his wild, unaltered mien, While each strained ball of sight seemed bursting from his head.

Thy numbers, Jealousy, to nought were fixedSad proof of thy distressful state:

Of differing themes the veering song was mixed; And now it courted Love; now, raving, called on Hate.

With eyes upraised, as one inspired,

Pale Melancholy, sat retired,

And, from her wild, sequestered seat,

In notes by distance made more sweet, Poured through the mellow horn her pensive soul; And dashing soft from rocks around, Bubbling runnels joined the sound;

Thro' glades and glooms the mingled measure stole, Or o'er some haunted stream with fond delay, Round a holy calm diffusing,

Love of peace, and lonely musing, In hollow murmurs died away.

But Oh! how altered was its sprightlier tone, When Cheerfulness, a nymph of healthiest hue, Her bow across her shoulder flung,

Her buskins gemmed with morning dew,

Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rurg The hunter's call, to Faun and Dryad known. The oak-crowned sisters and their chaste-eyed queen Satyrs and sylvan boys were seen, Peeping from forth their alleys green; Brown exercise rejoiced to hear,

And Sport leaped up and seized his beechen spear.

Last came Joy's ecstatic trial;

He, with viny crown advancing,

First to the lively pipe his hand addressed;
But soon he saw the brisk awakening viol,

Whose sweet entrancing voice he loved the best.
They would have thought, who heard the strain,
They saw in Tempe's vale her native maids,
Amid the festal-sounding shades,
To some unwearied minstrel dancing,

While, as his flying fingers kissed the strings, Love framed with Mirth a gay fantastic round, Loose were her tresses seen her zone unbound;

And he amid his frolic play,

As if he would the charming air repay,

Shook thousand odors from his dewy wings.

WILLIAM COLLINS.

A DAGGER OF THE MIND.

Is this a dagger which I see before me, the handle Toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee.

I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.

Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible

To feeling as to sight? or art thou but
A dagger of the mind, a false creation,
Proceeding from a heat-oppressed brain?
I see thee yet, in form as palpable

As this which now I draw.

Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going;
And such an instrument I was to use.

Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses,
Or else worth all the rest; I see thee still,
And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood,
Which was not so before. There's no such thing:
It is the bloody business which informs

Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one half-world
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
The curtain'd sleep; witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's offerings, and wither'd murder,
Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf,

Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design
Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth,
Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear
Thy very stones prate of my whereabout.
I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.
"MACBETH. "

SHAKESPEARE.

TWELFTH STEP IN RENDERING.

RELATION OF VALUES.

Relation of Values in speech may be likened to a pair of balances or scales. That which is being weighed receives more attention than the weights.

Under Relation of Values may be included what is commonly known as Comparisons of various kinds:Antithesis- the placing of opposites together. Simile- declares one thing to be like another. Metaphor- an implied comparison.

Ideas, Positive balanced with Negative; Heavy with Light; Limited with Limitless: that which we Choose with what we Reject; ideas of Comparison may be expressed or implied in a word alone or told in a sentence, a paragraph, or may be a longer expression. Positive ideas should be made heavy and negative light. In debate make your own arguments weighty, your opponent's arguments light- ignored as if of little worth. It is not best to attack the opponent's arguments. Treat as unworthy of attack: colorless.

Giving as good as is sent " defeats its own purpose. In dealing with questions of morals, make Light weightier than darkness; Beauty, Goodness, Truth of more weight than ugliness, deformity and error. In life as well as expression make Positives Heavy and Negatives Light. Love weighs more than hate; Goud than evil; Light than darkness; Life than death.