22,

Oft did he wander at the dewy eve,

When Sol's red beams were sinking in the west, And hastening home, the ploughman then does leave His brightened share, to seek for home and rest, With weary step, the shepherd trudges on,

The school-boys frolic o'er the village green,

The rural lass, before her shady home,

Sings forth her cheerful lay, and whirls her spinning-wheel.

23.

The chattering swallows circle through the air,
And dusky twilight holds the eastern skies,
The western mountains ruddy summits bear;
Soft o'er the woods the silver moon does rise,
And sweetly sleeps upon the bank around,

Her mellow light reclines on tree and bower;
The lofty trees give not a ruffling sound,

But all is silent now, just like the midnight hour.

24.

Then would he wander to some haunted spot,
Where fabled ghosts, by peasants oft were seen,
A place renown'd for many a murderous plot,

Where many a traveller's blood had stain'd the green.
Here would he sit and quickly here would hie,

Formed by his airy mind," from airy nought,"

A thousand flitting forms, of blackest die,

With crimes so dark and deep as terrified e'en thought.

25.

When black and dismal, loud the night wind pour'd,
Electric light'nings flash'd across the sky,
Through the dark heavens, the conscious thunder roar'd,
And screaming sea-gulls, raised their horrid cry.

Then would he see, upon the murky air,

The lurid witches on the light'ning ride;

Each blast of wind a thousand fiends did bear,

And dismal shriek'd the ghosts that flitted by their side.

26.

When sweet the moon-light on the green bank lay,
(He view'd) disporting on the crystal dew,
The blithsome fairios at their nightly play,

As through the mazy dance they swiftly flew.
When loud and chill the wintry winds did roar,
With fellow school-mates seated all around,
Hear'd tales of old traditionary lore,

While yet his infant mind did tremble at the sound

27.

When ruby gold bedew'd the western heaven,
He travell'd oft, near ocean's waves to be;
The snowy sails, before the light breeze driven,
On the blue bosom of the sparkling sea;
Sweet was the dash of waves the shore along,

The dipping oars were heard adown the tide,

The rustic fisher sung his simple song,

While the soft lute did sound from distant vessel's side.

28.

The vintage season blithe to him was dear,

When all the country shone with fruit around, And the bright products of the plenteous year, Blush'd on each vine, with ruby honours crown'd. Laden with baskets now the rustics come,

Quick from the curling vines the grapes are borne, With their rich spoil the labourers hasten home, And press the ruddy juice, against the winter storm.

29.

But evening comes, and now the work is o'er,
Sinks in the Atlantic wave, the cheerful sun,

And every peasant at his cottage door,

Joys that the autumnal toil at lengthis done. Soon as the crescent moon, from orient skies, Rises, in silver majesty serene,

From their low cottage seats they all arise,

And joining in a band, they gain the village green

30.

Soft plays the moonlight on the checker'd grass,
The dulcet lute, and tabor gently sound;
Each simple rustic takes his blushing lass,
And meets the dancers standing all around.
The merry piper plays the favourite tune,
With nimble feet they tread the dewy green,
Quick fly the couple till their turn is done,
Then other rural maids and smiling lads are seen.

31.

Their ancient parents, on the oaken seat,

Scan all their actions with a heartfelt joy,

Muse on the time, when they were quite as fleet,
And when such pleasures did their hearts employ;
Tell the lov'd actions of their early days,

(Sweet tales of memory ever, ever dear,) Point to the spot the scene of youthful plays, While on their aged cheeks oft glitter'd many a tear.

32.

Aye would Orlando join the sportive dance,

Or watch the gladness sparkling in their eyes, As they tripped down with all the naivé of France, Dressed in their habits neat, of various dies.

Such scenes as these, he thought could touch the heart, Raise gladness e'en on Melancholy's brow;

For all their charms kind Nature did impart,

And lovely is the grace that does from Nature flow.

33.

But man is oft deceived by tinsel's glare,
And thinks that happiness in riches dwell,
Deceiv'd by Grandeur's proud and haughty air,
Her swelling titles on his ear sound well.
Why foolish man repining at thy lot,

Does Discontent not dwell in gaudy dress!
Then let aspiring dreams be all forgot,

For know, to be content is thy true happiness.

34.

But few there are upon this ball of earth,

That know Contentment's pure and perfect state, Fain all would be nobility by birth,

Or by ambitious actions would be great. Some would again the part of Cæsar act,

And stain with blood the fertile fields of Gaul, With smiling eye view cities burn'd and sack'd, While prostrate o'er the land the murder'd millions fall.

35.

Horrid ambition, that can raise a throne,

From sanguine heaps of fellow mortals slain,

Rather by doing good, oh! gain a crown,

Then thou art worthy honours, let them rain.
To ameliorate the suff'rings of mankind,
From aged Sorrow's eye to wipe the tear,
To raise the weary and afflicted mind,

Are acts that well deserve a noble praise to bear.

36.

Such as great Howard, in the latter days,
In heavenly charity has dared to do;
Be thou humane, and follow all his ways,
Pursue a path, 'tis worthy to pursue.
May oft as rises pale the evening star,

The village maids around his tomb repair,

Shed on the green turf oft the paly tear,

Spread flowers o'er his sod, the sweetest of the year.

37.

Here pause my youthful lyre, here pause awhile,
Let all thy quiv'ring strings be lain aside,
Should fair Columbia now but deign to smile,
Their youthful poet's hopes are gratified.
Forgive, my country, oh! forgive my choice,
Of foreign theme, for this my first essay;
Should I dare rouse again poetic voice,gni

Then will I sing of thee, and all my tribute pay.

1

RHETORIC FOR THE PORT FOLIO.

LECTURE XII.

(Concluded from page 124.)

THE following animated and alarming representation from Massillon's sermon "On the Death of a Sinner," exhibits a specimen of impassioned eloquence, wonderfully adapted to display the talents of an accomplished pulpit orator, in giving energy to expression, by the solemnity of his tones, the agitation of his countenance, and the pathos communicated by the judicious use of emphatic pauses.

In the former part of this admirable discourse, the good bishop of Clermont most forcibly represents the futility of sensual enjoyments, and the high and sacred responsibility of the christian character: and then presents to the contemplation of his audience, the death bed of a merely nominal christian, who had finished his course, and passed his period of probation, " unsanctified by penitence and prayer"-and" without God in the world."

"Behold what the expiring sinner experiences in the recollection of his past life: sins which pass in dreadful array before him

the errors of childhood-the dissipations of youth-the vices and disorders of a more advanced period; perhaps, the shameful' excesses of a licentious old age. Ah! brethren, while we riot in the enjoyment of health, we perceive but the surface of our conscience: we recal only a vague and confused remembrance of our past life: we contemplate only the passions which, enchain us, not the crimes which they compel us to commit: an entire life spent in habits of iniquity appears then only as a single sin.But on the bed of death, the darkness which enveloped the conscience of the sinner is dissipated. The more he searches his heart, the deeper and more numerous are the stains which he discovers in it: the lower he descends into that black abyss, the more hideous are the monsters of horror which présent themselves to his sight; he is lost in the chaos, and bewildered with terror and amazement! To enlighten and purify that heart, an entire new life would be necessary-But, alas! Time flies with