LANGUAGE

MOSS.

Lycopodium.

MATERNAL AFFECTION.

SWEET is the image of the brooding dove!
Holy as heaven a mother's tender love!
The love of many prayers, and many tears,
Which changes not with dim, declining years
The only love, which, on this teeming earth,
Asks no return for passion's wayward birth.

MRS. NORTON.

I miss thee, my mother, when young health has fled, And I sink in the languor of pain.

Where, where is the arm that once pillowed my head, And the ear that once heard me complain?

Other hands may support me, gentle accents may fall;
For the fond and the true are still mine:

I've a blessing for each; I am grateful to all;
But whose care can be soothing like thine?

E. COOK.

Ah! blessed are they for whom, 'mid all their pains,
That faithful and unaltered love remains;
Who, life wrecked round them, hunted from their rest,
And by all else forsaken or distressed,

Claim in one heart their sanctuary and shrine,
As I, my mother, claimed my place in thine!

IBID.

They who have governed with a self-control
Each wild and baneful passion of the soul
Curbed the strong impulse of all fierce desires,
But kept alive affection's purer fires;

They who have passed the labyrinth of life,
Without one hour of weakness or of strife e;
Prepared each change of fortune to endure,
Humble, though rich, and dignified, though poor;
Skilled in the latent movements of the heart;
Learned in the lore which nature can impart ;
Teaching that sweet philosophy aloud
Which sees the "silver lining" of the cloud;
Looking for good in all beneath the skies:
These are the truly wise.

This, this is wisdom, manful and serene

J. R. PRINCE.

Towards God all penitence, and prayer, and trust; But to the troubles of this shifting scene

Simply courageous and sublimely just; Be then such wisdom thine, my heart within There is no foe, nor woe, nor grief, but sin.

Wisdom to gold prefer; for 'tis much less
To make our fortune than our happiness.

TUPPER.

YOUNG.

MYRTLE.

Myrtus.

LANGUAGE-LOVE IN ABSENCE.

LINGER not long! Home is not home without thee;

Its dearest tokens only make me mourn;

O, let its memory, like a chain about thee,
Gently compel and hasten thy return.

Linger not long!

Linger not long! Though crowds should woo thy staying,

Bethink thee; can the mirth of friends, though dear,

Compensate for the grief thy long delaying

Costs the heart that sighs to have thee here?

Linger not long!

How shall I watch for thee when fears grow stronger,
As night draws dark and darker on the hill!
How shall I weep, when I can watch no longer!
O, art thou absent art thou absent still?

Linger not long!

Haste, haste thee home into thy mountain dwelling!
Haste as a bird unto its peaceful nest!..
Haste as a skiff, when tempests wild are swelling,
Flies to its haven of securest rest!

Linger not long!

NARCISSUS.

Narcissus Poeticus.

LANGUAGE-EGOTISM, OR SELF-LOVE.

NARCISSUS on the grassy verdure lies;
But while within the crystal fount he tries
To quench his heat, he feels new heats arise;
For, as his own bright image he surveyed,
He fell in love with the fantastic shade;
And o'er the fair resemblance hung unmoved,
Nor knew, fond youth, it was himself he loved.

Some women deify a friend;

Some grovel at the shrine of pelf;
A few to heaven in worship bend:

Her idol is her own sweet self.

OVID.

MRS. OSGOOD.

A thousand volumes in a thousand tongues enshrine the lessons of Experience;

Yet a man shall read them all, and go forth none the

wiser,

If self-love lendeth him a glass, to color all he conneth, Lest in the features of another he find his own com

plexion.

鐵

TUPPER.

NASTURTIUM.

Tropaeolum Majus.

LANGUAGE PATRIOTISM.

THE Green Mountaineer the Stark of Bennington

When on the field his band the Hessians fought, Briefly he spoke before the fight began

"Soldiers! those German gentlemen are bought, For four pounds eight and sevenpence per man,

By England's king- a bargain, as is thought.
Are we worth more? Let's prove it now we can ;
For we must beat them, boys, ere set of sun,
Or Molly Stark's a widow." - It was done.

Give me the death of those
Who for their country die;
And O, be mine like their repose
When cold and low they lie.
Their loveliest Mother Earth

Enshrines the fallen brave;

In her sweet lap who gave them birth

They find their tranquil grave.

They never fail who die

In a great cause :

HALLECK.

MONTGOMERY.

They but augment the deep and sweeping thoughts Which overpower all others, and conduct

The world, at last, to freedom.

BYRON.