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Tell, oh, tell me, Grizzled-Face !
WILLIAM TELL AMONG THE MOUNTAINS.
J. S. KNOWLES.
Ye crags and peuks I'm with you once again!
- Scaling yonder peak,
And round about; absorbed, he heeded not
HAMLET'S SOLILOQUY ON DEATH,
To be, or not to be—that is the question !
Who would fardels bear,
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all, And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought; And enterprises of great pith and moment, With this regard, their currents turn awry, And lose the name of action.
0. W. HOLMES.
We count the broken lyres that rest
Where the sweet-wailing singers slumber, . But o'er their silent sister's breast
The wild-flowers who will stoop to number? A few can touch the magic string,
And noisy Fame is proud to win them; Alas for those who never sing,
But die with all their music in them!
Nay, grieve not for the dead alone,
Whose voice has told their heart's sad story; Weep for the voiceless who have known
The cross without the crown of glory! Not where Leucadian breezes sweep
O'er Sappho's memory-haunted billow, But where the glistening night-dews weep
O'er nameless sorrow's churchyard pillow.
O hearts that break and give no sign,
Save whitening lips and fi ding tresses, Till Death pours out his cordial wine,
Slow dropped from misery's crushing presses! If singing breath or echoing chord
To every hidden pang were given, What endless melodies were poured,
As sad as carth, as sweet as heaven!
Rome and Carthage! Behold them drawing near for the struggle that is to shake the world! Carthage, the metropolis of Africa, is the mistress of oceans, of kingdoms, and of nations; a magnificent city, burthened with opulence, radiant with the strange arts and trophies of the East. She is at the acine of her civilization. She can mount no higher. Any change now must be a decline. Romo is comparatively poor. She has seized all within her grasp, but rather from the lust of conquest than to fill her own coffers. She is demi-barbarous, and has her education and her future both to make. All is before her—nothing behind. For a time these two nations exist in view of each other. The one reposes in the noontide of her splendor, the other waxes strong in the shade. But, little by little, air and space are wanting to each for her development. Rome begins to perplex Carthage, and Carthage is an eyesore to Rome. Seated on opposite banks of the Mediterranean, the two cities look each other in the face. The sea no longer keeps them apart. Europe and Africa weigh upon each other. Like two clouds surcharged with electricity they impend. With their contact must come the thunder shock.
The catastrophe of this stupendous drama is at hand. What actors are met! Two races—that of merchants and mariners, that of laborers and soldiers; two nations—the one dominant by gold, the other by steel ; two republics—the one theocratic, the other aristocratic. Rome and Carthage! Rome with her army, Carthage with her fleet; Carthage, old, rich and crafty—Rome, young, poor and robust; the past and the future; the spirit of discovery, and the spirit of conquest; the genius of commerce, the demon of war; the Eąst and the South on one side, the West and the North on the other; in short, two worlds—the civilization of Africa, and tho civilization of Europe. They measure each other from head to foot. They gather all their forces. Gradually the war kindles. The world takes fire. These colossal powers are locked in deadly strise. Carthage has crossed the Alps; Rome, the seas. The two nations, personified in two men, Hannibal and Scipio, close with each other, wrestle and grow infuriate. The duel is desperate. It is a struggle for life. Rome wavers. She utters that cry of anguish—Hannibal at the gates! But she rallies-collects all lier strength for one last, appalling effort-throws herself upon Carthage, and sweeps her from tho face of the earth!
0. W. HOLMES.
I love to hear thine earnest voice,
Wherever thou art hid,
Thou pretty Katydid I
Old gentlefolks are they-
In such a solemn way.
Thou art a female, Katydid!
I know it by the trill
So pertinent and shrill.
Beneath the hollow tree-
Do Katydids drink tea ?
Oh, tell me where did Katy live,
And what did Katy do ?
And yet so wicked too?
Or kiss more cheeks than one ?
Than many a Kate has done!