Shook, from his locks, the water spray,
And bark'd again, to chide delay.

And, when, with lily foot unshod,
Across the shallow brook, she trod,
Again he sped, for then he knew
The path, that Ellen would pursue.
And, when she gain'd the ridge's height,
Carlo was fairly out of sight.

And thus, with health and sweet content,
Fair Ellen pass'd her early hours,
Nor yet e'er op'd her eyes, on sorrow;

Save once, but long those tears had dried ; 'Twas, when her father, Edgar, died.

And thus, with basket at her side,

Carlo and little Ellen went,

In search of herbs, and fruits, and flowers;
And, homeward, with the little store,

At even, sought the cottage door.
Then, to the village, on the morrow,

Carlo and little Ellen came,
And sold them, to the village dame.

With slower step, then Carlo trod,
And proudly sought the village road;
For well he constru'd, what did mean
The decent plaid and bonnet green.

It was a pleasant thing, to see
Ellen, at even, merrily,

When length'ning shadows, o'er the lea,
Call'd home the ploughman wearily;
Tripping, with lightsome steps, along,
While, half untied, her bonnet hung;
And Carlo, marching close before,
With lifted head, the basket bore.

And truly it was fair, to see
Old Mary's kind and greeting smile,

That more than paid for Ellen's toil.
And, when her little gains she show'd,
And laid upon her mother's knee,
And smiling, said, 'tis all for thee;'
The tear, down Mary's cheek, that flow'd,
To Ellen's heart was far more dear,

Than worlds of wealth and costly gear."

The following passage is true to nature, and exemplifies variety in the versification.

"Gentle stranger, have you never,
Musing, upon your lonely pillow,
Given a sweet, a silent hour,
To mem❜ry dear?

Whose living wand, with magic pow'r,
Can bring so near

Your native land, beyond the billow;
And show so clear

Dear early scenes, that time would sever;
And paint the friend, now sunk forever,
With hand so true,

That long lost friend, and distant home,
And scenes of youth before you come,
In present view?

"If such an hour you never knew,
Ah, then indeed you ne'er can know,
Why, down my cheek, this tear does flow,
When, on my mem❜ry rushing, come
Dear thoughts of Mary's humble home.
The peaceful look, the greeting smile,
The brook, and hill, and hawthorn green,
That grew, beside the lowly cell,
And Ellen's gentle voice, and mien,

My poor old heart with sorrow swell,
And of its kindest tears beguile."

There is something eminently pathetic in the following description of the death of " poor old Mary."

"Upon her bed, old Mary laid;
Her hands were clasp'd, as if she pray'd.
But soon I mark'd, though piercing cold,
No blaze the cottage hearth did hold;
And Carlo, couch'd, beside the bed,
With piteous whine, and lifted head.

"One eager glance did plainly show,
Her wither'd chin had sunken low.
And, in her eye, half op'd, half clos'd,
The silent look of death repos'd.
Her last sad tear had ceas'd to flow,
And, frozen, on her cheek, did stand.
And, when I lightly pass'd my hand,
With trembling haste, upon her brow,
My palm did seem on mountain snow!-
Wanderer, have you ever seen,
Half hidden, in the lowland green,
The bashful lily of the vale;
One single bell, upon a stem ?
Whose fragrance, floated on the gale,
Whose lustre brighter grew
When closer to the flow'r you came,
And gaz'd, with nearer view?
And, when you rais'd its little head,
More fragrance and new lustre shed;
And, when releas'd, resum'd again
Its humble air and modest mien ?

"And have you torn away the flow'r,
The plaything of an idle hour,

And thrown it lightly by?
And did you e'er at, parting, view
The stock, on which the lily grew,
And mark, how soon the feeble stem,
Dishonor'd of its only gem,

Would droop, and pine, and die ?"

We shall make but one more extract, in which the misery of Ellen is illustrated by a figure most exquisitely beautiful.

"Oh! 'twas a piteous thing, to see
The little Ellen's misery.

For fever'd blood and constant care
Had strangely shorn her flowing hair.
That eye, whose glance did once reveal
Whate'er her gentle soul did feel,
That hazel eye did strangely glare,
And, in its socket, sunken low,
Now told of nought, but wild despair.
Care's anxious hand had stamp'd, e'en now,

Its checker'd signet, on her brow.
Her cheek, deep lin'd, by streaming woes,
Display'd, by fits, the fev'rish rose,
And pallid lily, sadly fair.

And, when the hectic strife was o'er,
Then, on her cheek, the rose no more
Strove, 'gainst the pale usurper's pow'r ;
The lily sat, in triumph there.

Scarce aught remain'd, by which, to know
'Twas Ellen, but the tale of wo...."

We have endeavored to be faithful in giving Mr. Sargent's own punctuation in the preceding extracts; but, should a comma have escaped us, its absence will not be lamented where such exuberance of supernumeraries remain.

The remaining poems in the volume are short. "The Trial of the Harp," it was remarked to us by a friend, is a fascinating little fancy piece, but perhaps a little too etherial. "Billowy water" was first published at Boston in the Palladium; it was afterwards published in the London Courier, as the original pro luction of an English clergyman, whose name we do not now recollect. Mr. Sargent has now laid claim to his property, and we feel a degree of national pride in declaring it to be unquestionably his. The following are the concluding stanzas

"Bill'wy water, roll along!

While far I mark thy various way ;

Thy murm'ring stream, thy torrent strong
Life's varying tide display.

First, its infant waters flow,
Through verdant dale, and flow'ry mead;
Where lilies of the valley blow,
And fairies softly tread.

Glassy now its bosom seems;
But Av❜rice, soon, and bubbling Pride
Pour in their tributary streams;

And swell the little tide.

Swift the manly torrent pours,
In frothy billows, proudly tost,
And, 'midst life's troubled ocean, roars,
Till all, in noise, is lost."

FOR THE POLYANTHOS.

A COURSE OF

LECTURES ON NATURAL PHILOSOPHY,

BY J. LATHROP, JUN. A. M.

LECTURE THE THIRD.

ELECTRICITY.

ELECTRICITY, as one of the most potent agents by which the material world is influenced and affected, claims an early attention in the order of this Course, and is adopted as the subject of the present Lecture. This subtle, strong and astonishing power is diffused through every part of creation with which we are acquainted, penetrating the inmost recesses of bodies, and producing (according to the circumstances by which its operations are governed,) the most beneficial, or the most disastrous effects on objects within its sphere of action. That it is matter, and not a mere property, or the effect of some cause, as sound is of a solid body, is evident from a variety of facts established by the test and experience of our