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“Ho! can ye stay the rivers,

Or bind the wings of light; Or bring back to the morning

The old departed night?

“Nor shall ye check my impulse,

Nor stay it for an hour, Until earth's groaning millions

Have felt my healing power."

That spirit is Progression,

In the vigour of its youth; The foeman of Oppression,

And its armour is the TRUTH.

Old Error, with its legions,

Must fall beneath its wrath; Nor blood, nor tears, nor anguish,

Will mark its brilliant path.

But onward, upward, heavenward,

The spirit still will soar, 'Till peace and love shall triumph,

And falsehood reign no more.

SUNSET.

Full tenderly and softly fades away
The slowly, beautifully-dying day;
Like sweetest memories of the precious past,
Lovelier and lovelier seems it to the last.

Another leaf is from our Life-tree shaken
Another step Eternity hath taken.

What hopes are gathered to their graves to-night-
What visions and what dreams have ta'en their flight!
Fast waves of hours have sought the Eternal sea,
We, too, draw near our Immortality!

Another leaf is from our Life-tree shaken-
Another step Eternity hath taken.

How bright, how soft, the deeply-mantling clouds,
Day's latest draperies, and the sun's rich shrouds !
Ah! lovelier than the rosy birth of Love,
Declining and decay can be above !

Another leaf is from our Life-tree shaken
Another step Eternity hath taken.

A heavenly thing can dying there be made;
Smilne o'er the whole celestial scene have played,

With retinue and with regalia bright
As that of conquering kings—Day sinks to A

Another leaf is from our Life-tree shaken

Another step Eternity hath taken.
Ye vanished moments ! ye are gone with all
That in your flying visits did befall;
Keen pangs, sweet pleasures—Hope, Dismay, Surprise,
And all your precious charge of smiles and sighs :

Another leaf is from our Life-tree shaken-
Another step Eternity hath taken.

In worlds afar, say, shall your trumpet-voice
Past hours! sigh forth “Lament,” or sing “Rejoio.'?
Ah! little matters here your joy or care,
If ye but lead to the endless rapture there!

Another leaf is from our Life-tree shaken

Another step Eternity hath taken.
Too much we dwell upon this earthly scene,
Too much upon its grief or gladness lean;-
And let the leaves of Life drop one by one,
Scarce heeding how Eternity sweeps on!

Another leaf is from our Life-tree shaken,
Another step Eternity hath taken.

It should not be! That gladness or that grief,-
They're but like passing tints on each light leaf.
The fruit is deathless !—vain the Joy, the Care,
Save as they sow the Eternal harvest there !

Another leaf is from our Life-tree shaken-
Another step Eternity hath taken.

LOVE, THE ARTIST.

.

“O Art, unto my longing eyes,"

I said, “her charms for ever give; In that sweet life that never dies

For ever let her beauty live.” And Art his eager pencil plied

To paint her charms, all charms above: But soon “In vain I strive," he cried;

“Oh who can paint her—who but Love ?"

I turned to Fancy—“To my sight,"

I murmured, “ from the glowing air Oh let her gaze my soul delight,

As if she breathed before me there!" At Fancy's call her image came

Oh not her charms, all charms above ! Poor Fancy's cry was but the same

“Oh who can paint her--who but Love ?"

Then mighty Love, with laughing joy,

The pencil seized with wild delight, And ere I well could mark the boy,

She laughed in life before my sight! Oh who like him such brows could draw,

Such dark, deep eyes, all eyes aboveLike him could paint the charms I saw ?

Oh who can paint her—who but Love?

*

MENTAL IMPRESSIONS INDELIBLE.

SAID Hannah More to a female friend, who was watching by her dying bed, “I love you fervently, and it will be pleasant to you twenty years hence to remember that I told you so in my last moments." This was a tender and touching remark. But for aught we can know to the contrary, the venerable woman might have spoken to her sympathizing companion of twenty centuries to come with the same propriety as of twenty years.

That faculty of the mind which we call memory, and by which the ideas of past objects are so retained as never to lose their impressions, is one of the noblest of human endowments. Without the ability of thus keeping what we gain, and using acquisitions already made as helps to further acquisitions, there could scarcely be any such thing as mental improvement. This is the basis of all education, the ground-work of all real progress. What we need is the power of treasuring up facts, reasonings, and conclusions once possessed, as a means of further advancement, and a nucleus around which other accumulations shall gather. Were it not for the existence of such a faculty, the effort to gain knowledge would be as fruitless as pouring water into a sieve. It is not pretended that memory has

power

any such

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