Millions swell the patriot song, 2. Who would sever freedom's shrine ?b Dear to me the South's fair land, 3. By our altars, pure and free, By our common parent tongue, We will still be one. 4. Fathers! have ye bled in vain ? “Union, Liberty," Jubilee; a public festivity. b Shrine: a case or box as for relics. LESSON LV. 55 LAKES AND THE OCEAN. MELLEN. 1. THERE is ever a contrast between the smaller lakes and the great ocean. You can rarely, if ever, look upon the sea, when it is not heaving with the coming on, with the height or with the dying of the tempest. There is always agitation within its mighty bosom. You see something at work there that tells of perpetual unrest; of a power within that cannot be still. The subsiding thunder of the storm that has passed away, is but the deep prelusive music of another. 2. But go in midsummer to the lake, einbosomed among the hills, and gaze upon it when all the elements are in slumber, and I know not that you will find in nature a more beautiful picture of repose. There is no heaving billow there; no crested wave breaking in foam upon the shore; no sound of departed storm, murmuring like some vast imprisoned spirit at its temporary subjection. 3. But you see there a surface, silent as death, and as placid. The water lies spread before you, a perfect mirror; and you see wooded summit and lofty vale, forest and field-tree and tower, cloud and sky, all gazing into its profound, as though enchanted with the loveliness of their own reflection. You see the beautiful and the grand mingling their wonders in solitude, and you feel how much more exquisite is the display when it is perfected in the hour and home of Nature's quietness. 4. Then, if you stand upon bank or shore at sunset, when its hundred hues are playing on the sky, and see the new heaven created in the depths below you, and witness its mockery of splendor, its fading colors and dying beams, till star begins to answer star in the dark water, surely you are beholding something that Nature presents only in such hallowed spots in her empire; something of beauty and grandeur that she can never offer by the "vasty deep;" something, be it devel oped where it may, far beyond the witchery of the gifted pencil; something to rejoice in, something to be thankful for. LESSON LVI. SCENE FROM PIZARRO. Pizarro and Gomez. KOTZEBUE. [Before reading the following dialogue, the reader should carefully study the rule and remark under Personation, p. 62.] The facts upon which this dialogue is founded occurred in Peru, and it is designed to show the cruelty of Pizarro, and the integrity of the unoffending Peruvians. Piz. How now, Gomez, what bringest thou? Gom. On yonder hill, among the palm trees, we have surprised an old Peruvian. Escape by flight he could not, and we seized him unresisting. Piz. Drag him before us. [Gomez leads in Orozembo. c] What art thou, stranger? Oro. First tell me who is the Captain of this band of robbers. Piz. Audacious! This insolence has sealed thy doom. Die thou shalt, gray-headed ruffian. But first confess what thou knowest. Oro. I know that which thou hast just assured me of, that I shall die. Piz. Less audacity might have preserved thy life. Oro. My life is as a withered tree, not worth preserving. Piz. Hear me, old man. Even now we march against the Peruvian army. We know there is a secret path that leads to your strong hold among the rocks. Guide us to that, and name thy reward. If wealth be thy wish Oro. Ha, ha, ha! a Pizarro; a Spanish general of great ignorance and cruelty, who invaded Peru in 1525, and caused the hospitable king Atahualpa to be burned. b Gomez; a fictitious name for one of Pizarro's army. c A fictitious name for one of the Peruvians. Piz. Dost thou despise my offer? Oro. Yes, thee and thy offer! Wealth! I have the wealth of two gallant sons. I have stored in heaven the riches which repay good actions here! and still my chiefest treasure do I wear about me. Piz. What is that? Inform me. Oro. I will, for thou canst never tear it from me. sullied conscience. An un Piz. I believe there is no other Peruvian who dares speak as thou dost. Oro. Would I could believe there is no other Spaniard who dares act as thou dost! Gom. Obdurate Pagan! how numerous is your army? Oro. Count the leaves of the forest. Gom. Which is the weakest part of your camp? Oro. It is fortified on all sides by justice. Gom. Where have you concealed your wives and children? Oro. In the hearts of their husbands and fathers. Piz. Knowest thou Alonzo ?a Oro. Know him! guardian angel of Peru! Alonzo! Our nation's benefactor, the Piz. By what has he merited that title? Oro. By not resembling thee. Piz. Who is this Rolla, joined with Alonzo in command? Oro. I will answer that, for I love to speak the hero's name. Rolla, the kinsman of the king, is the idol of our army. In war a tiger, in peace a lamb. Cora was once betrothed to him, but finding she preferred Alonzo, he resigned his claim for Cora's happiness. Piz. Romantic savage! I shall meet this Rolla soon. Oro. Thou hadst better not! the terrors of his noble eye would strike thee dead. Gom. Silence, or tremble! Oro. Beardless robber! I never yet have learned to tremble before man. Why before thee, thou less than man! ■ A fictitious name for one of the Peruvians. b Peru (Peroo';) a republic of South America. Gom. Another word, audacious heathen, and I strike! Oro. Strike, Christian! then boast among thy fellow too have murdered a Peruvian." SECOND SCENE. Sentinel, Rolla and Alonzo. [Enter Rolla, disguised as a monk.] Rolla. INFORM me, friend, is Alonzo, the Peruvian, con. fined in this dungeon? Sent. He is. Rolla. [Advancing toward the door.] Soldier, I must speak with him. Sent. [Pushing him back with his gun.] Back! back! it is impossible. Rolla. I do entreat you but for one moment. Sent. You entreat in vain; my orders are most strict. Rolla. Look on this wedge of massy gold! Look on these precious gems. In thy land they will be wealth for thee and thine, beyond thy hope or wish. Take them, they are thine; iet me pass but one moment with Alonzo. Sent. Away! Wouldst thou corrupt me? Me, an old Castilian! I know my duty better. Rolla. Soldier! hast thou a wife? Sent. In my native village, in the very cot where I was born. a Castilian; a native of Castile, a province of Spain. |