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HUMAN LIFE.

HOME.

"Tis not in battles that from youth we train

The governor who must be wise and good,

And temper with the sternness of

the brain

Thoughts motherly, and meek as womanhood.

Wisdom doth live with children round her knees:

Books, leisure, perfect freedom, and the talk

Man holds with week-day man in the hourly walk

Of the mind's business: these are the degrees

By which true Sway doth mount; this is the stalk

True Power doth grow on; and her rights are these.

WORDSWORTH.

TO CORINNE.

HAPPY, happier far than thou
With the laurel on thy brow,
She that makes the humblest hearth
Lovely but to one on earth!

HEMANS.

LINES ON LEAVING EUROPE.

BRIGHT flag at yonder tapering mast, Fling out your field of azure blue; Let star and stripe be westward cast, And point as Freedom's eagle flew!

Strain home! O lithe and quivering spars!

Point home, my country's flag of stars!

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FAREWELL, ye lofty spires
That cheered the holy light!
Farewell, domestic fires
That broke the gloom of night!
Too soon these spires are lost,
Too fast we leave the bay,
Too soon by ocean tost
From hearth and home away,
Far away, far away.

Farewell, the busy town,
The wealthy and the wise,
Kind smile and honest frown
From bright, familiar eyes.
All these are fading now;
Our brig hastes on her way;
Her unremembering prow
Is leaping o'er the sea,

Far away, far away.

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The tickled ears no heart-felt raptures raise;

Nae unison hae they with our Creator's praise.

The priest-like father reads the sacred page,

How Abram was the friend of
God on high;

Or Moses bade eternal warfare wage
With Amalek's ungracious proge-

ny;

Or how the royal Bard did groaning lie

Beneath the stroke of Heaven's avenging ire:

Or Job's pathetic plaint, and wailing cry;

Or rapt Isaiah's wild, seraphic fire; Or other holy seers that tune the sacred lyre.

Perhaps the Christian volume is the theme,

How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed;

How He, who bore in Heaven the second name,

Had not on earth whereon to lay his head:

How his first followers and servants sped;

The precepts sage they wrote to many a land:

How he, who lone in Patmos banished,

Saw in the sun a mighty angel stand;

And heard great Babylon's doom pronounced by Heaven's command.

Then kneeling down, to Heaven's Eternal King,

The saint, the father, and the hus

band prays:

Hope "springs exulting on triumphant wing,"

That thus they all shall meet in future days:

There ever bask in uncreated rays, No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear,

Together hymning their Creator's praise,

In such society, yet still more dear; While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere.

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