« ÎnapoiContinuă »
And how the scorched foot did shrink
But, alas! there was not a single breeze
The cities were forsaken,
For their marble wells were spent ; And the walls gave back the scorching glare Of that hot firmament:
But the corses of those who died were strewn In the street, as dead leaves lay,
And dry they withered, and withered alone; They felt no foul decay.
Night came. The fiery sun sank down,
Vain was the hope! there was no cloud
In the clear, dark, blue Heaven; But, bright and beautiful, the crowd
Of stars looked through the even.
And men had visions dark and deep,
And children sobbed themselves to sleep,
The morning came; not as it comes
Not with those cool and fresh perfumes
A mother held her child to her breast,
And then she saw her infant smile:
A tear had sprung with a sudden start,
It had fallen upon that faint child's lip,
I looked upon the mighty sea;
All its waves were gone, save two or three,
Within the caves of those deep rocks
And in the very midst, a ship
Lay in the slime and sand;
Oh, water had been a welcome sight
Oh, what a sight was the bed of the sea!
Or tossed and tumbled restlessly,
For ages; he was gone; and all
His rocky pillows shown,
With their clustering shells, and sea-weed pall,
And I began to feel the pang,
I had a scorching, swelling pain,
My tongue seemed parched; I tried to speak;
And, starting at my own wild shriek,
CALM AT SEA.
Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down,
'Twas sad as sad could be;
And we did speak only to break
All in a hot and copper sky,
Day after day, day after day,
We stuck; no breath nor motion;
Water, water, every where,
And all the boards did shrink:
MISS M. A. BROWNE.
The very deep did rót: alas!
About, about, in reel and rout
The death-fires danced at night; The water, like a witch's oils,
Burnt green, and blue, and white.
And some in dreams assured were
And every tongue, through utter drought
We could not speak, no more than if
There passed a weary time. Each throat
How glazed each weary eye,
At first it seemed a little speck,
It moved and moved, and took at last
A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist!
As if it dodged a water-sprite,
With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,
QUALITIES OF A WELL-REGULATED MIND.
A PROPER discipline and regulation of the mind, require:
1st. The cultivation of a habit of steady and continuous attention; or of properly directing the mind to any subject which is before it, so as fully to contemplate its elements and relations. This is necessary for the due exercise of every other mental process, and is the foundation of all improvement
of character, both intellectual and moral. We frequently have occasion to remark, how often sophistical opinions and various distortions of character may be traced to errors in this first act of the mind, or to a misdirection and want of due regulation of the attention. There is, indeed, every reason to believe, that the diversities in the power of judging, in different individuals, are much less than we are apt to imagine; and that the remarkable differences observed in the act of judging, are rather to be ascribed to the manner in which the mind is previously directed to the facts, on which the judgment is afterward to be exercised. It is related of Sir Isaac Newton, that, when he was questioned respecting the mental qualities which formed the peculiarity of his character, he referred it entirely to the power which he had acquired of continuous attention.
2d. A careful regulation and control of the succession of our thoughts. This remarkable faculty is very much under the influence of cultivation; and on the power so acquired depends the important habit of regular and connected thinking. It is primarily a voluntary act; and in the exercise of it in different individuals there are the most remarkable differences. In some, the thoughts are allowed to wander at large without any regulation, or are devoted only to frivolous and transient objects; while others habitually exercise over them a stern control, directing them to subjects of real importance, and prosecuting these in a regular and connected manner. This important habit gains strength by exercise; and nothing, certainly, has a greater influence in giving tone and consistency to the whole character. It may not, indeed, be going too far to assert, that our condition, in the scale both of moral and intellectual beings, is in a great measure determined by the control which we have acquired over the succession of our thoughts, and by the subjects on which they are habitually exercised.
3d. The cultivation of an active, inquiring state of mind, which seeks for information from every source that comes within its reach, whether in reading, conversation, or personal observation. With this state of mental activity ought to be closely connected attention to the authenticity of facts so received; avoiding the two extremes of credulity and skepticism.
4th. The habit of correct association; that is, connecting facts in the mind according to their true relations, and to the