418 Why rather, Sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber And lull'd with sounds of sweetest melody? O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile, 2. Wilt thou, upon the high and giddy mast,' 6 Who take the ruffian' billōws by the top, SHAKSPEARE t m 1. W 181. A POET'S PARTING THOUGHT. HEN I beneath the cold red earth am sleeping, Will there for me be any bright eye weeping Will there be any heart still memory keeping 2. When the great winds, through leafless fõrests rushing, 5 1 Måst.—2 Rude (röd).—3 Surge (sërj).—4 Ruffian (růf' yan).— Curling (kêrl'ing).—3 Hurly (her'ly), a tumult.—7 Wears (wärz). m When the swollen streams, o'er crag and gully gushing, Will there then one, whose heart despair is crushing, 3. When the bright sun upon that spot is shining, And the small flowers, their buds and blossoms twining, Will there be one still on that spot repining 4. When no star twinkles with its eye of glōry And wintry storms have, with their ruins hoary, Will there be then one, versed in misery's story, 5. It may be so; but this is selfish sorrōw A weakness and a wickedness to borrōw, The wailings of to-day for what to-morrow 6. Lay me then gently in my narrow dwelling, And though thy bosom should with grief be swelling, It were in vain,-for time has long been knelling SAD ONE, DEPART! 1. 182. THE PAUPER'S DEATH-BED. ПREAD softly,bow the head,— TREAD In reverent silence bow; No passing-bell doth toll,- Is passing now. MOTHERWELL. 1. 2. Stränger, however great, With hōly reverence bow;— 3. Beneath that beggar's roof, Lo! death doth keep his state; 4. That pavement, damp and cold, 5. No mingling voices sound,- A sob suppress'd,-again That short, deep gasp, and then 6. Oh, change!-oh, wondrous change!- 7. Oh, change!-stupendous change! There lies the soulless clod; The Sun eternal breaks, The new immortal wakes,— Wakes with his God! CAROLINE BOWLES SOUTHEY. 183. WARREN'S ADDRESS. TAND! the ground's your own, my braves— S Will ye give it up to slaves? Will ye look for greener graves? Hope ye mercy still? Look behind you! they're a-fire! Who have done it! From the vale Let their welcome be ! 3. In the God of battles trust! As where heaven its dews shall shed And the rocks shall raise their head, Of his deeds to tell? REV. JOHN PIERPONT. T IT 184. SPARTACUS TO THE GLADIATORS At Capua. had been a day of triumph in Căpuä. Len'tulus, returning with victorious eagles, had amused the populace with the sports of the amphitheater to an extent hitherto unknown even in that luxurious' city. The shouts of revelry had died away; the roar of the lion had ceased; the last loiterer had retired from the banquet; and the lights in the palace of the victor were extinguished. 2. The moon, piercing the tissue of fleecy clouds, silvered 1 Cåp' u a, a fortified city of Naples. It was built out of the ruins of ancient Capua, the city here referred to, the remains of which, about two miles E., include a gate, and portions of a large amphitheater.—2 Luxurious (lug zu're ůs), delighting in the pleasures of the table; devoted to to pleasure. the dew-drops on the corslet of the Roman sentinel, and tipped the dark waters of the Vulturnus' with a wavy, tremulous light. No sound was heard, save the last sob of some retiring wave, telling its story to the smooth pebbles of the beach; and then all was still as the breast when the spirit has departed. In the deep recesses of the amphitheater, a band of gladiators' were assembled; their muscles still knotted with the agony of conflict, the foam upon their lips, the scowl of battle yet lingering on their brows; when Spar'tacus,' starting forth from amid the throng, thus addressed them: 3. "Ye call me chief; and ye do well to call him chief who, for twelve long years, has met upon the arēna every shape of man or beast the broad empire of Rome could furnish, and who never yět lowered his arm. If there be one among you who can say, that ever, in public fight or private brawl, my actions did belie my tongue, let him stand forth, and say it. If there be three in all your company dare face me on the bloody sands, let them come on. 4. "And yet I was not always thus,—a hired butcher, a savage chief of still more savage men! My ancestors came from old Sparta, and settled among the vine-clad rocks and citron groves of Syrasella. My early life ran quiet as the brooks by which I sported; and when, at noon, I gathered the sheep beneath the shade, and played upon the shepherd's flute, there was a friend, the son of a neighbor, to join me in the pastime. We led our flocks to the same pasture, and partook together our rustic meal. 5. "One evening, after the sheep were folded, and we were all seated beneath the myrtle which shaded our cottage, my 1 Vul tur' nus, now Volturno (vol tår′ no), a river of Naples.Glåd' i å tor, a sword-player; a prize-fighter.-3 SPARTA CUS, a celebrated gladiator, a Thracian by birth, who having escaped from Capuă along with some of his companions, was soon followed by other gladiators, and by slaves, robbers, pirates, and other desperate men. After having defeated four of the consular armies of Rome, he was met and completely routed by the pretor CRASSUS, having lost not less than 40,000 of his followers. SPARTACUS behaved with great valor; and when he fell, it was upon a heap of Romans whom he had sacrificed to his fury (B. c. 71). |