the rainbow It also bore along with it over the briny valleys a whirl of fine white spray, resembling the dust which rises from a great frequent'ed avenue on a dry summer day. 2. What appeared most formidable was the indication that some of the summits of these hills, pushed forward from their bases by the violence of the wind, unfurled into enormous vaults, which broke and rolled over upon themselves, roaring and foaming with a fall that would have engulfed the largest ship had it found itself under their ruins. The condition of our vessel concurred with that of the sea to render our position frightful. Our mainmast had been broken the night before by the lightning, and our foremast, with our only sail, had been carried away that morning by the gale. The vessel, incapable of obeying her helm, rolled in the trough of the sea, the sport of the wind and the waves. 3. I was upon the quarter-deck, hanging on to the mizzenshrouds, and trying to familiarize myself with this tremendous spectacle. As one of these mountainous piles of water approached us, I judged that the summit was more than fifty feet above my head. The base of this stupendous wave, passing under our vessel, made it incline so that the main-yards were half dipped in the sea, and the heels of the masts were so under water that we thought we were upset. Our staggering vessel, when it found itself on the crest of the surge, shook and righted for a moment, but the next was prostrated in an equally perilous manner on the descending slope of the wave, while a volume of water poured from under with the rapidity of a sluice, forming a large sheet of foam. 4. We remained in this situation, between life and death, from sunrise to three o'clock in the afternoon. It was impossible to give or receive consolation by word of mouth. So violent was the wind, that one could not make himself heard even by shouting close in his companion's ear. The blast seemed to bear away the sound of the voice, permitting nothing to be heard but its own wild howling, mingled with the creaking and rattling of the cordage, and the hoarse thunder of the surges, striving like sav age beasts for our destruction. ORIGINAL TRANSLATION FROM ST. PIERRE. XCI. THE HEROISM OF GRACE DARLING. 1. ALL night the storm had raged, nor ceased, nor paused, Beating on one of those disastrous isles, 2. With quick glance Daughter and sire through optic-glass discern, Creatures how precious in the maiden's sight! 3. The daughter's words, Her earnest tone, and looks beaming with faith, To launch the bōat; and, with her blessing cheered, 4. Each grasps an oar, and struggling on they go,- Here to elude and there surmount, they watch 5 True to the mark, They stem the current of that perilous gorge, Their arms still strengthening with the strengthening heart Though danger, as the wreck is neared, becomes More imminent. Not unseen do they approach; And rapture, with varieties of fear Incessantly conflicting, thrills the frames Of those who in that dauntless energy 6. But the least perturbed Can scarcely trust his eyes, when he perceives One is a woman, a poor earthly sister! 7. But why prolong the tale, Casting weak words amid a host of thoughts That no one breathing should be left to perish, 8. Shout, ye waves !169 Send forth a sound of triumph. Waves and winds, a voice165 9. And would that some immortal voice - Though young so wise, though meek so resolute, —131 Yea, to celestial choirs, Grace Darling's name! WORDSWORTH XCII. THE PRAIRIES OF THE WEST. 1. THE attraction of the prairie consists in its extent, its carpet of verdure and flowers, its undulating surface, its groves, and the fringe of timber by which it is surrounded. Of all these, the latter is the most expressive feature; it is that which gives character to the landscape, which imparts the shape and marks the boundary of the plain. If the prairie be small, its greatest beauty consists in the vicinity of the surrounding margin of woodland, which resembles the shore of a lake, indented with deep vistas like bays and inlets, and throwing out long points like capes and headlands; while occasionally these points approach so close on either hand, that the traveller passes through a narrow avenue or strait, where the shadows of the woodland fall upon his path, and then again emerges into another prairie. 2. Where the plain is large, the forest outline is seen in the far perspective, like the dim shore when beheld at a distance from the ocean. The eye sometimes roams over the green meadow without discovering a tree, a shrub, or any object in the immense expanse, but the wilderness of grass and flowers; while at another time the prospect is enlivened by the groves, which are seen interspersed like islands, or the solitary tree, which stands alone in the blooming desert. 3. If it be in the spring of the year, and the young grass has just covered the ground with a carpet of delicate green, and especially if the sun is rising from behind a distant swell of the plain, and glittering upon the dew-drops, no scene can be more lovely to the eye. The deer is seen grazing quietly upon the plain; the bee is on the wing; the wolf, with his tail drooped, is sneaking away to his covert with the felon tread of one who is conscious that he has disturbed the peace of nature; and the grouse, feeding in flocks or in pairs, like the domestic, fowl, cover the whole surface. 4. When the eye roves off from the green plain to the groves, or points of timber, these also are found to be at this season robed in the most attractive hues. The rich undergrowth is in full bloom. The red-bud, the dog-wood, the crab-apple, the wildplum, the cherry, the wild-rose, are abundant in all the rich lands; and the grape-vine, though its blossom is unseen, fills the air with fragrance. The variety of the wild fruit and flowering shrubs is so great, and such the profusion of the blossoms with which they are bowed down, that the eye is regaled almost to satiety. 5. The gayety of the prairie, its embellishments, and the absence of the gloom and savage wildness of the forest, all contribute to dispel the feeling of lonesomeness which usually creeps over the mind of the solitary traveller in the wilderness. Though he may not see a house, nor a human being, and is conscious that he is far from the habitations of men, he can scarcely divest himself of the idea that he is travelling through scenes embellished by the hand of art. The flowers, so fragile, so delicate, and so ornamental, seem to have been tastefully disposed to adorn the scene; the groves and clumps of trees appear to have been scattered over the lawn to beautify the landscape; and it is not easy to avoid that illusion of the fancy which persuades the beholder that such scenery has been created to gratify the refined taste of civilized man. 6. Europeans are often reminded of the resemblance of this scenery to that of the extensive parks of noblemen which they have been accustomed to admire in the Old World; the lawn, the avenue, the grove, the copse, which are there produced by art, are here produced by nature; a splendid specimen of massy architecture, and the distant view of villages, are alone wanting to render the simil'itude complete. JAMES HALL. 7. These are the gardens of the desert, these As if the ocean, in his gentlest swell. Stood still, with all his rounded billows fixed, No- they are all unchained again. The clouds Sweep over with their shadows, and, beneath, 8. Man hath no part in all this glorious work: And smoothed these verdant swells, and sown their slopes 54 And hedged them round with forests. Fitting floor With flowers whose glory and whose multitude Rival the constellations! The great heavens Seem to stoop down upon the scene in love, BRYANT XCIII. -THE VALLEY OF MEXICO. FROM THE SIDE OF THE SIERRA NEVA'DA. 1. CONCEIVE yourself placed on a mountain nearly two thousand feet above the valley, and nine thousand above the level of the sea; a sky above you of the most perfect azure, without a cloud; and an atmosphere so transparently pure that the remotest objects, at the distance of many leagues, are as distinctly visible as if at hand. The gigantic scale of everything first strikes you, you seem to be looking down upon a world. 2. No other mountain and valley view has such an assemblage of features, because nowhere else are the mountains at the same time so high, the valley so wide, or filled with such variety of land and water. The plain beneath is exceedingly level, and for two hundred miles around it extends a barrier of stupendous |