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explain that beautiful scheme of salvation which has | emphatically yours. They do not come by inheriredeemed a fallen world; when you would roll away that dark and gloomy cloud of skepticism which hovers around so many minds, and build up and establish their faith on the eternal basis of revelation and reason; or when in the walks of private life, you shall minister consolation and comfort to those who, in the language of Holy Writ, are weary and heavy laden, and seek for rest; or even when it shall be your mournful task to sit by the couch of a dying friend-to rescue his mind from its perplexities and sorrows, and direct it to its Maker, unobscured by those clouds of difficulty and dismay which had before lowered above his horizon how necessary I say, at all such times as these, that | you should have that knowledge, which, united to true piety and holiness, shall enable you to comprehend, and to communicate what you comprehend to others! Then can you become the physician of the soul, and perform the sacred task of administering faithfully to the mind diseased.

But it is not the learned professions alone in which your knowledge will be useful. In the most retired walks of life, it will be your constant friend and companion--it will accompany you in the fields-it will cheer and animate you in your solitude-it will adorn and fit you for the social circle-it is that alone, which, united with benevolence and virtue, can enable you to realize the beautiful fable of Orpheus, by attuning the hearts of others to beat in unison with your own, thereby creating that magic spell which, whilst it throws around us the charm of pleasure by the intellectual emotions which it excites, raises at the same time all the kindly sympathies of our nature, and commands all our affections.

tance, nor do they pass away from you by the operation of the law or the disasters of the times. Can wealth and title, derived by inheritance, be looked on by you as a possession like this! These things are yours by the accident of birth, and not by merit. Are you entitled to any applause for their possession--can you feel any moral elevation from this source alone? And remember, that these things may be yours to-day, and be destroyed or in the possession of another tomorrow. But talent and learning are forever yours, by the unalterable nature of the mind. The aristocracy of wealth and birth may be overthrown by the revolu tions of trade, or by the onward progress of reform or civilization; but the aristocracy of talent and learning will abide with the world's duration, because, founded on elements not distributable by the caprice of man, or the mutations of fortune, and gaining the support and calling forth the admiration of the world, because the world cannot dispense with those advantages which they shed around them. How little of the fame of Aristotle rests upon his wealth and royal honors, upon the patronage of Philip, or the teaching of Alexander. Who now cares about the title of Bacon, the father of modern philosophy? or who, when he takes his flight in imagination through the blue infinite, amid that illimitable number of starry worlds, with their systems of planets moving through the infinitudes of space, and contemplates those great laws impressed upon them by the omnipotent arm which bind them to their orbits, and rule them into order and harmony-who, I say, amid such contemplations as these, can pause to ask what was the title of Sir Isaac Newton, the great discoverer of these laws, or to bestow praise on the philosopher for the mere possession of a title?

It has been my lot, gentlemen, to travel farther, and to see mankind under a greater number of phases than There is one other consideration which I must not you have, and I can confidently say that everywhere omit to urge upon you, whilst insisting on the necestalent and learning command the admiration and res-sity of continued labor for the accumulation of knowpect of the world; everywhere do these accomplishments call forth the homage of mankind—either voluntary or involuntary. It is this homage which makes the man of learning the citizen of the world, and gives him the hospitality and patronage of nations. The man of learning is justly regarded as the benefactor of the human race--and the wars and strifes of nations are suspended as to him. Even states that have fallen into iniquity, and have shed the blood of the innocent, have been known to pause in their career, whilst they paid a tribute of respect to the man of science. At that awful period, when the dreadful guillotine was shedding torrents of blood in revolutionary France-when the moral elements of our nature seemed, in that devoted country, to have risen in rebellion against their God, and the conscience of man appeared forever silenced-when the very demon of discord and violence seemed for a time to be let loose to plague the nations of the world, even at such a period did the National Assembly stop in its mad career, to pay a tribute of homage and respect to science, by decreeing three days mourning for the death of Benjamin Franklin. What a trophy was this, to have been won by science, amid the raging elements of discord and faction, when longestablished empires were swinging from their moorings. And recollect, too, that the honors and applause which your learning and talent may win for you, are

ledge. Never forget the interests of your country-never forget that we have here tried, upon a grander and fairer scale than has ever before been exhibited to the world, the great experiment of self-government. Remember, that upon the success of this experiment, depends the cause of liberty throughout the world. The patriot and philanthropist, the king and the nobleman, are looking with equal anxiety, though with opposing wishes, to the result. Hitherto the advocate of despotism has pointed to the turbulent democracies of Greece, and to the domineering and licentious spirit of the overshadowing commonwealth of Rome, and asked in triumph, whether you would renew the scenes which were once exhibited on those brilliant theatres? whether, after looking into the faithful page of history, and marking well the stages through which these ancient republics have passed down to the great cemetery of nations: first beholding corruption and degeneracy, then despotism and weakness, then the barbarian, the Macedonian, the Goth, the Vandal, and the Hun, pouring on them the vials of their wrath, and revelling in their ill-gotten wealth ?-whether, with this melancholy career of the ancient republics before us, we could wish again to evoke from the tomb of ages the genius of democracy? But we have boldly tried anew the solution of the great problem of self-government, with advantages not possessed by the ancient world. The eye of

your country, or at the augmentation of the happiness of the world. These feelings were implanted in your bosoms by your Maker, for great and useful purposeswith reason, and virtue, and revelation to govern themand impossible would it be to eradicate them, if it were attempted; and rash and presumptuous, if it were pos

mankind is on us; and whether we shall succeed, or add another to the number of splendid failures, depends on ourselves. Remember, that sovereignty pervades our empire like the very air we breathe; it descends to the farthest-and binds the most distant together. When the people are sovereign, all must depend on their intelligence and virtue. No matter what may be our des-sible. I know full well that the bosom of generous tiny in life--no matter where, in this widely spread system of confederated republics, our lot may be cast, it is impossible to shake from ourselves our just share of the responsibility. No one of us can fold his arms in indolence and repose, and say that he has nothing to do with the success of our government. We are individually responsible for the result. Apathy and ignorance, on the part of the people, would at once remove the barriers to usurpation and tyranny of our rulers. Every man of talent and virtue, no matter what may be his calling, is an obstacle in the path of the usurper. Ten pious men would have saved Sodom; and a few virtuous intelligent citizens have saved many a nation from disgrace and ruin.

youth throbs with the desire for fame and distinctionwith a longing for immortality-and that each one of you, when he looks forward to the day when his body shall rest beneath the green sod of the valley, would wish that his deeds were entwined with his country's glory-that his name were embalmed on the page of her history, and repeated by millions, whose grateful hearts should join in pœans of praise to their country's benefactor. Nature spoke forth in all her candor, by the mouth of the dying Pushmataha, the Choctaw chief, in that touching exclamation-"When I am gone, let the big guns be fired over me.”

You are now, young men, under the impulse of those stimulating desires-with advantages which few may

similar age. You are fast advancing, to fill the places of those who are fast retiring, to give place to a new generation. You have to look forward for a few short years only, and you behold the aspect of society changed. The venerable fathers who have borne the heat and burthen of the day, are dropping one after another into the grave, and soon they will all be goneand you, together with others who are now just entering into the busy scenes of independent life, are to occupy the houses, and own the property, and fill the offices, and possess the power, and direct the influ

Before I quit this subject of the pursuit of know-enjoy-about to enter the world along with others of a ledge, let me impress upon you the importance not only of extending your learning as long as you shall live, but of not suffering any portion of that which you have acquired to be lost. Most persons who have passed even honorably through their collegiate career, are apt to neglect the abstruser sciences, when they enter upon the active business of life; because these address themselves principally to the intellect, and are not so fraught with those interesting associations of hope, and joy, and sympathy, which cling to the productions of the poet and the novellist. They do not teem with passion and feeling, and do not call into such ac-ence, that are now in other hands. The various detive exercise the sensibilities of our nature. It has been well remarked, however, that this want of the power of awakening the feelings, this defect of vital warmth in the abstruser sciences, is not without its advantages. Some of the finest pleasures of our nature are those of pure intellect, without any mixture of human passion. When the mind has been agitated by the cares of the world, irritated by folly, or disgusted by vice, it is an attainment of no despicable importance to be able for a while to divest itself of its connection with mankind, by taking refuge in the abstractions of science, where there is no object to drag it back to the events of the past or revive the fever of its sensibility. It is like passing from the burning rays of a vertical sun, into the delicious coolness of the grotto.

partments of business, in private and public life; the pulpit and the bar; our courts of justice, and halls of legislation; our civil, religious and literary institutions; all in short that constitutes the complex machinery of society, and goes to make life useful and happy, are to be in your hands and under your control. Far be it from me, to excite your vanity by such representations as these. It is rather to impress on your minds the responsibilities which you are to assume, and the duties which you are to discharge. It is, that I may stimulate you to enter upon the race which you are to run, with all the resolution of the combatants at the Olympic games.

Vitanda est improba siren
Desidia-

When then, gentlemen, you shall have selected your professions, if you enter them with a determination of The next subject to which I would call your atten- acquiring a reputation superior to names hourly swept tion, is the principles by which you should be go-away among the refuse of fame, you must combine verned; and the conduct which you should pursue labor with perseverance. in the several professions and occupations which you may respectively follow in life. And here I shall not pause to give you advice as to the profession which you should select-for most of you have already made your selections, nor to discuss the relative advantages which belong to them; nor will I occupy your time by pointing out the dangers of ambition, and advising you to confine your views to the walks and stations of private life alone. I will not endeavor to repress within you the heavings of a laudable ambition. I will not check that desire for fame and for reputation, that shall be reared on those generous deeds and noble achievements, which aim at the elevation of the character of |

In the language of Dr. Johnson, you must acquire the art of sapping what you cannot batter; and the habit of vanquishing obstinate resistance, by obstinate attacks. The great men of the world are the real working men, whatever may be their professions; such men were Socrates and Plato, Demosthenes and Circero of antiquity; and such have been the Luthers, the Bacons, the Newtons of modern times, and such all men are compelled to be, who would gratify a laudable ambition for usefulness and distinction.

Let me guard you particularly against too much pro

crastination in your exertions. Let your labors com- | each one,-and with the sovereignty of the people acmence with your first entry into your professions. knowledged to be the mainspring of the whole,-with Youth is eminently the fittest season for establishing such a system as this, we must not wonder that the habits of industry. Rare indeed are the examples of parts should sometimes jar and grate upon each other— men, who, when their earlier years have been spent in that interest should spring into collision with interestdull inactivity or triflng amusements, are afterwards that heart-burnings and jealousies should exist-that animated with the love of glory, or instigated even by Ephraim should sometimes vex Judah, and Judah the dread of want, to undergo that labor to which they Ephraim-and that, when the quarrels of this band of have not been familiarized. And far, too, very far, are brothers should wax warm, a cloud of darkness should they from the enjoyment of happiness in the midst of hover over our troubled horizon, and obscure the bright their idleness. They find this state not merely joyless, prospects of the future. All these are evils incidental to but painfully tormenting; they are racked with cares, the very best government that has ever yet been dewhich they can neither explain nor alleviate; and, vised, and evils which are calculated to generate party through the mere want of pursuits, they are harassed spirit in all the intensity of rancor and intolerance, and with more galling solicitude, than even disappointment to produce that greedy appetite for present popuoccasions to the man of business. Wearied they are larity, which may too often tempt the weak aspirant at last with doing nothing, and form hasty resolutions to sacrifice, for the interest of the moment, that which and vain designs of doing something-when, starting will dim forever and irretrievably, the lustre of his aside from the very approach of toil, they leave it un- name. Never, gentlemen, whatever may be the temptdone forever and forever. Look around you into so-ing prize that is placed before you, condescend to beciety and see upon whom its favors and its patronage are bestowed. Are they not the steady and the laboring? And remember, too, that when you have once formed the habit of patient industry, it will fortify your virtue against the most dangerous temptations, by blunting the keen appetite for sensuality, and closing up the first avenues to dishonesty. It opens a broader field for the display of every talent, and inspires you with new vigor for the performance of every professional and social duty. Look around-and ask who they are who compose the dissipated, profligate, vicious society of each neighborhood—and you will be answered everywhere, they are the idle and the indolent—who have no occupations in life, or who labor not in those which they have selected.

In addition to that labor and perseverance which you must carry with you into your several professions, if you would aim at distinction, let me exhort you, by all means, never to lose sight of virtuous principle in your actions. In your dealings with mankind, carry about you always a sense of duty fortified by the purest morality. The mens conscia sibi recti is the most valuable treasure which man can possess. He alone can move forward steadily and uniformly, who acts upon virtuous principle. The efforts of men not thus trained must ever be desultory and occasional. Their conduct rests on no fixed principle, and is rarely directed to any noble end. With such persons, intellect degenerates into craft, and anger rankles into malignity. All salutary restraint is resisted, and the most judicious admonitions are urged in vain.

But it is upon those who may enter into political life, that I would especially urge this advice. It is true, we have one of the most perfect governments ever yet devised by the wisdom of man. But let us never forget, that the wave which wafts the welcome ship into our harbor, may sometimes infold the deadly crocodile. With an extent of territory almost as great as that of the Roman Empire, stretching from the lakes almost to the tropics, and producing every variety of climate and every species of production; with an expanse from east to west, from ocean to ocean-with six and twenty republics already formed, and others rapidly springing into vigorous existence, all united together by one great and general system of confederation-with a local government for

come the instruments of selfish party leaders. Never, in the eagerness of your desire for present advancement, should you forget the consequences which await you in the future. Never practice upon that miserable maxim of Themistocles, that by deceiving to-day, you may acquire a strength that will bid defiance on the morrow-that if Greece can but be deceived for the present, the walls of Athens will be built on the morrow, and bid defiance to the leagued states of Greece. Such wretched policy as this does always overreach itself, and bring on its own unpitied, unlamented punishment, even in this world. The faithful page of history has told us how Themistocles was at last driven forth from his country, a wanderer and a refugee in the land of his enemies. Broken-hearted and disconsolate, how many longing lingering looks, did he cast back on that ill-fated, ungrateful city, that sent him forth from those very walls which his political cunning had reared. And the dissensions of Greece, and the frightful plague of Athens, and the Peloponesian war, and lastly, Philip and the Macedonians, but too eloquently tell the melancholy consequences of the insidious designs and intolerable injustice of that Athenian policy, which, in its eagerness for present aggrandizement, forgets the awful retribution of the future.

Every politician in this country must have his seasons of difficulty, of doubt, and of temptation-moments when present interest and a desire for popularity will urge in one direction, whilst truth and duty will impel into the other. My advice to you in such perplexities, is, that you should adhere steadily and firmly to principle. By such conduct, the real greatness of the soul is demonstrated. Then, and then alone, you will have nothing to fear, and nothing to repent of. Nulla pallescere culpa will be the palladium that will secure the citadel of the heart. And should the hour of your fall from political elevation then come,-under the sweet consolations of an approving conscience, you can retire to the shades of private life. But the fall of the politi cian of principle and virtue is seldom hopeless-virtue, even in this world, is sooner or later rewarded. thus does it happen, that the man who steadily adheres to principle, amid all the political storms which may agitate his country, does rarely fall from political eminence like Lucifer, never to rise again; but he does

"And

of the truths of Christianity and of an elevated noble morality, be your constant companion. Read it, and ponder well over its solemn precepts.

"I have carefully and regularly perused the Scriptures," says one who combined unbounded learning with a virtuous heart, who had travelled among many countries, learned many languages, studied many laws and examined many systems of religion-"I have carefully and regularly perused the Scriptures," said this great man, “and am of opinion that this volume, independent of its divine origin, contains more sublimity, purer morality, more important history, and finer strains of eloquence, than can be collected from all other books, in whatever language they may have been written." Beware then how you treat a subject whose indispensable importance is solemnly announced in that book; and if the words of levity, when you are speaking of the Bible, should ever rise to your lips, pause and reflect how great must be your presumption, in impiously daring to throw ridicule on that book, which has been truly said, in every onset of its foes, to have risen with renewed strength, with extended empire, and with brighter prospects. Remember that it has fought the battle with the idolatries and atheism of Greece and Rome, sanctioned by the rescripts of emperors and supported by the formidable power of those legions, who had already pushed forward the dominion of Rome until the "o'er canopied horizon failed," and against the fearful odds it has triumphed. It has fought the battle with the superstitions and corruptions of popery, that had been gathering strength for a thousand years, and triumphed. It has fought the battle with infidelity, panoplied in talent and genius and marshalled by her ablest and most zealous captains, and triumphed. Well then may I urge the constant study of such a book; it will give rise to that contemplation which purifies the heart. The inspired writer has said, that you should not be always gay. It is well-yea, it is absolutely necessary, if you would cleanse the heart of the demons that may haunt it--that you should sometimes leave the multitude, and give yourselves up to the solemnities and the severities of self-examination, and the awful stillness of religious contemplation.

the rather resemble some great and mighty Alp, seated | vice to you is, that you should cultivate within youron the immoveable basis of ages, around whose top the selves a religious, pious spirit. No matter what may clouds of Heaven may gather and the lightnings play-be your destiny in life, let the Bible, that holy repository against whose sides the winds and rains may beat; but when the elemental strife is past, and the darkness which had shrouded it for a time is rolled away, there it stands, in all its sublimity, unaltered and unscathed." But before I pass from the theme of politics, let me exhort you, never to forget the duties that belong to private life, whilst you are discharging those that are public. Never neglect that little circle to which you may be all in all-cultivate its love, and win its friendship; and in turn, it will always furnish the mind with the purest motives, and communicate to the generous heart the strongest stimulus. And above all, never forget those beings who have watched and guided you along the path of your infancy; who have rejoiced in your joys, and grieved in your sorrows; who have so often shed over you the bitter tear of solicitude, and sent to Heaven the silent, fervent, pious prayer for your welfare, whilst you have lain upon your pillows in the slumbers of night, all thoughtless and unconscious. Your love and veneration for your parents will supply you with the noblest impulses. Who is there, that does not admire the filial love of the great Epaminondas, who declared that the greatest pleasure which the renowned victory of Leuctra had afforded him, consisted in the reflection, that his aged parents had lived to rejoice in his fortune, and in the glory of their country? Thus it happens, that the duties of private life do so rarely conflict with those of the public; and perhaps, the loftiest specimen of humanity, is the man, the aspirings of whose heart for the good of man knows no limitations-whose longings and whose conceptions on this subject, overleap all the barriers of geography-who, looking on himself as a brother of the species, links every spare energy which belongs to him with the cause of its melioration-who can embrace, within his ample desires, the whole family of mankind--and who, in obedience to a heaven-born movement of principle within him, separates himself to some big and busy enterprise, which is to tell on the moral destinies of the world-but who can at the same time mix up the softness of private virtue with the habit of so sublime a comprehension; and amid those magnificent darings of thought and of performance, the mildness of his benignant eye can still cheer the retreat In these seasons of retirement, you will find many of his family, and spend the charm and the sacredness great and valuable opportunities for trimming your of piety among all its members-can mingle himself, lamps, which the public theatre of the world affords in all the gentleness of a soothed and smiling heart, you not. Here are no flatterers to deceive--no enemies with the playfulness of his children, and can find to intimidate you. Here you may trace out the secret strength to shed the blessings of his presence and his sources of those corruptions which may threaten you counsel over the vicinity around him. Would not the with pollution, and of those passions which may lead combination of so much grace with so much loftiness, you astray. There is nothing which can so effectually only serve the more to aggrandize him? And would and silently infuse that unfeigned, unaffected moderayou not pronounce him to be the fairest specimen of tion, which calms and tranquillizes the mind amidst the our nature, who could so call out all your tenderness, storms of life, as a spirit of devotion and prayer. Man, while he challenged and compelled all your veneration? it has well been said, is a religious animal-his wants, The time to which I have limited myself in this ad- and his weaknesses, and his imperfections, amid the dress, admonishes me that I must hasten to a close, wildest, as amid the more genial scenes of the world, although there be many a topic left untouched, which I proclaim his dependence on a God-all nature cries would fain exhibit to your view. But there is one, aloud through her works, that there is one. And well gentlemen, too solemn and too vitally important to us might the great philosopher of a past age have exall, to be passed over, even by me, in silence. Need I claimed, in view of these luminous facts: "I would say, that it is the sacred subject of religion. My ad-rather believe all the fables in the Legend, and the Tal

mud, and the Alkoran, than that this universal frame, Of the sweet moon, that gliding through the trees, is without a mind." We are all occasionally liable in our career through life, to meet with difficulties and distresses which cannot be alleviated by man, or even communicated to friends. There are none, no matter how they may seem to bask in the sunshine of prosperity, who are exempt from these trials and vicissitudes. The mind cannot wholly escape from themthey cling to our very associations, and causes light as air may crowd them thick and heavy upon the soul. "It may be a sound

A tone of music-summer's eve--or spring

A flower-the wind--the ocean-which shall wound--
Striking the electric chain where with we are darkly bound;
And how and why we know not, nor can trace
Home to its cloud this lightning of the mind."

On such occasions as these, religion and religion alone,
is the solace of the mind. It is that alone which can
calm and neutralize our woes, and point us beyond the
dark and troubled horizon of this world, to the brighter
prospects of another.

Pour'd down her rich smile on them. A sweet breeze Came from the opposite shore, and would have borne The birdlike streamer of his little barque, And made her sail swell out, as if it felt, And loved, the love-assigned office. 'Twas the hour, But still he came not. A sad servitor That ever watched her heart, and had a look Of frowning sorrow, and was named Despair, Rebuked her eyes that looked for him in vain, And bade her hope not. Wherefore looked she then, Thus ever, and still earnestly, with hope, That seemed but a sweet sorrow? Who shall tell If thought was in that fondness ?-if the mind Went with the unconscious eye; and, in that glance Of wild abstraction, if the expression strong, Had reason for its guide? It was alas! But the sad habit of her form that now Kept her a watcher. Her sad eyes looked forth, Unmonitored by mind,-from memory!Go then, gentlemen, with a fixed determination to She saw not the bright waters-not the moonrun with vigor, with virtue, and with piety, the race that Not the fair prospect !—All was vacancy, is before you. In the name of the Faculty of this Col-To that unheeding mourner! She had gazed lege, whose instructions you have received, whose pre- 'Till all grew dark before her!-She had thought, cepts you have honored, and who will be proud of your 'Till thought had swoll'n to madness!--She had felt, future distinctions, and rejoice in your future prosperity, Till feeling, like some fever, ate away do I call on you for exertion. In the name of those The heart it fed on. companions of your studies who are now assembled around you, whose conduct has this year won the applause of all, whilst it has added a new lustre to our venerable Alma Mater, and whom you may be proud indeed to illustrate-in their name, I exhort you to a life of virtue and of usefulness. That long list of great and venerable names, that have gone forth from our halls, to grace and to adorn the walks of private and public life-the very genius of the spot on which you have pursued your studies-all raise expectations which you must not deceive, and call for exertions which you must not withhold. And now, gentlemen, I bid you an affectionate farewell, with the fervent prayer, that that | Being who doeth his will, and ruleth in the armies of heaven, may guide and direct you through this world, as he did the children of Israel through the wilderness; and when your heads shall be "whitened with the snows of age," and your limbs "stiffened with the frosts of winter," may you be able to look back on a life of beneficent and useful action, and forward to an eternity of bliss.

ALBERT AND ROSALIE:

A DOMESTIC STORY.

II

"Twas a cruel tale
Told by the villagers, of an early love,
And hapless indiscretion:-Such a tale,
As erring, but fond, natures, aptly leave
In every valley where warm spirits dwell,
And sunny maidens. Rosalie was young,-
Lovely as young. A childish excellence,
Infantile grace, with archness intermixed,
Play'd in her look, and sparkled in her eye,
Which glowed with ravishing fires, from a dark orb,
That had a depth like Heaven! A cheek, fair
And delicate as a rose leaf newly blown;—
A brow like marble--lofty and profuse,
With the rich brown of her o'er-gathering hair!—
These were her beauties-nor in these, alone,
Was she held worthy to be sought of love
In frequent worship. The rich, rosy lips,
That played and parted ever with a smile,
Becoming, with mixed dignity and love,—
Had music there a dweller. Many a night
Her wild song, o'er those waters, silenced them,
And their rough murmurs, to the spell-bound ears
Of her enamored hearers. She would sing,
As if song were an element, and she,

By the author of "Guy Rivers," "Mellichampe," "The Ye- The gay, glad bird, just fitted to extend
massee," the "Partisan," &c.

I

She sat beside the lattice and looked forth
Upon the waters. A smooth stream went by,
Playfully murmuring, and along its banks,
Making a pleasant music. 'Twas the hour,
When, shooting through the light wave, his canoe
Bore him that loved her, when, in other days,
Her own love, deeply hallowed by its truth,
Was sanctified by hope and trust in Heaven-
In Heaven and him! 'Twas the hour, and there,
The waters lay in light-the silvery light

Her bright wings o'er its bosom, and go forth,-
Bringing rich notes to earth from the high Heaven,
To which sweet echoes ever bore them back!-
And in her rustic home,-and, with the crowd
That came about her ever,--'twas a sway,
Queen-like and undisputed, which she bore,
And which they gave her ;--nor, in this abused,
The power she wielded had its spells in love,
And gentleness, and true thought-never in scorn,
Or any wayward impulse or caprice,
Solicitous, to humble or deny :--

The Queen of loveliness, she was no less

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