And the hands, as they swept o'er the dial of gold, And lo! she had changed: in a few short hours, 66 While I gazed at that fair one's cheek, a shade And the light in her eye, and the light on the wheels, Was a little dimmed, as when evening steals - Upon noon's hot face; — yet one couldn't but love her, For she looked like a mother, whose first babe lay Rocked on her breast, as she swung all day; And she seemed, in the same silver tone to say, "Passing away! passing away!" While yet I looked, what a change there came ! The garland beneath her had fallen to dust; Grew crooked and tarnished, but on they kept, And still there came that silver tone From the shrivelled lips of the toothless crone, (Let me never forget till my dying day The tone or the burden of her lay,) "Passing away! passing away!" LESSON CXLIV. That Silent Moon. GEORGE W. DOANE. THAT silent moon, that silent moon, Have passed beneath her placid eye, How oft has Guilt's unhallowed hand, Profaned her pure and holy light! With sights like these that virgin queen! But dear to her, in summer eve, By rippling wave, or tufted grove, To smile in quiet loneliness, And hear each whispered vow, and bless. Dispersed along the world's wide way, When friends are far, and fond ones rove, How powerful she to wake the thought, How powerful, too, to hearts that mourn, And oft she looks, that silent moon, On couch, whence pain has banished sleep: O, softly beams her gentle eye On those who mourn, and those who die. But beam on whomsoe'er she will, And fall where'er her splendors may, There's pureness in her chastened light, There's comfort in her tranquil ray: What power is hers to soothe the heartWhat power, the trembling tear to start! The dewy morn let others love, Or bask them in the noontide ray; There's not an hour but has its charm, From dawning light to dying day: But O, be mine a fairer boon That silent moon, that silent moon! 35* LESSON CXLV. The Midnight Mail. HANNAH F. GOULD. 'Tis midnight-all is peace profound! They come they pause a moment when, Their charge resigned, they start, and then Hast thou a parent far away ? If aught like these, then thou must feel That strings thy heart, till morn appears, Perhaps thy treasure 's in the deep, Thy brother where thou canst not weep Thy parent's hoary head no more May shed a silver lustre o'er His children grouped, nor death restore Thy prattler's tongue perhaps is stilled; May be, the home where all thy sweet And while, alternate o'er my soul Father in heaven, whate'er may be LESSON CXLVI. The Progress of Knowledge. S. G. GOODRICH. CONTEMPLATE for a moment the progress of science with in the last forty years. Geology has almost entirely grown up within the present century. All former ages had dozed in ignorance and indifference over its mighty revelations. The bones of the mastodon and the ichthyosaurus had been occasionally discovered, and some dreaming philosophers |