LESSON XCV. ding of the Pilgrim Fathers.-MRS. HEMANS. : breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, I the woods, against a stormy sky, 'heir giant branches tost; I the heavy night hung dark 'he hills and waters o'er, en a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore. as the conqueror comes, 'hey, the true-hearted, came,with the roll of the stirring drums, And the trumpet that sings of fame; - as the flying come, n silence and in fear; ey shook the depths of the desert's gloom, With their hymns of lofty cheer. idst the storm they sang, And the stars heard and the sea; d the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang To the anthem of the free. e ocean-eagle soared From his nest by the white wave's foam, ere were men with hoary hair, There was woman's fearless eye, There was manhood's brow serenely high, And the fiery heart of youth. What sought they thus afar?- The wealth of seas? the spoils of war?- Ay, call it holy ground, The soil where first they trod : They have left unstained what there they found- LESSON XCVI. n for the second Centennial Celebration of the Settlement Two HUNDRED YEARS!-two hundred years!— The red man, at his horrid rite, Seen by the stars at night's cold noon, His bark canoe, its track of light Left on the wave beneath the moon,— His dance, his yell, his council-fire, And that pale pilgrim band is gone, Ready to faint, yet bearing on The ark of freedom and of God. d war-that, since, o'er ocean came, And thundered loud from yonder hill, ad wrapped its foot in sheets of flame, To blast that ark-its storm is still. ief, sachem, sage, bards, heroes, seers, me, for the last two hundred years, is like a dream when one awakesThis vision of the scenes of old: is like the moon when morning breaks, 'Tis like a tale round watch-fires told. hen what are we !-then what are we! Yes, when two hundred years have rolled er our green graves, our names shall be A morning dream, a tale that's told. od of our fathers,-in whose sight rant us that love of truth sublime, LESSON XCVII. The Western World.-BRYANT. E, from this western shore, that morning chased he deep and ancient night, that threw its shroud the green land of groves, the beautiful waste, Turse of full streams, and lifter up of proud, ky-mingling mountains, that o'erlook the cloud. while, where yon gay spires their brightness rear, 'rees waved, and the brown hunter's shouts were loud id the forest; and the bounding deer t the glancing plume, and the gaunt wolf yelled near. I where his willing waves yon bright blue bay ends up, to kiss his decorated brim, cradles, in his soft embrace, the gay oung group of grassy islands born of him, nd, crowding nigh, or in the distance dim, s the white throng of sails, that bear or bring he commerce of the world;-with tawny limb, belt and beads in sunlight glistening, avage urged his skiff like wild bird on the wing. n, all this joyful paradise around, nd all the broad and boundless mainland, lay re stood the Indian hamlet, there the lake pread its blue sheet, that flashed with many an oar, ere the brown otter plunged him from the brake, nd the deer drank: as the light gale flew o'er, he twinkling maize-field rustled on the shore; while that spot, so wild, and lone, and fair, look of glad and innocent beauty wore, peace was on the earth and in the air, arrior lit the pile, and bound his captive there unavenged: the foeman, from the wood, in the flood of fire, that scathed the glade, >ofs went down; but deep the silence grew, en on the dewy woods the day-beam played: re the cabin smokes rose wreathed and blue, r, by their lake, lay moored the light canoe. now abroad: another race has filled se populous borders; wide the wood recedes, owns shoot up, and fertile realms are tilled; > land is full of harvests and green meads; cams numberless, that many a fountain feeds, , disembowered, and give to sun and breeze eir virgin waters; the full region leads colonies forth, that toward the western seas like a rapid flame, among the autumnal trees. the free spirit of mankind, at length, curb his swiftness in the forward race. , like the comet's way through infinite space, -hes the long untravelled path of light the depths of ages: we may trace, the brightening glory of its flight, receding rays are lost to human sight. e is given a prey to sterner fates, d writhes in shackles; strong the arms that chain rth her struggling multitude of states. =, too, is strong, and might not chafe in vain ou, my country, thou shalt never fall, |