PART II.

EXERCISES IN READING AND DECLA

MATION.

SPEECH OF SATAN TO HIS LEGIONS.

(MILTON.)

Narrative.

He scarce had ceas'd, when the superior fiend,
Was moving tow'rd the shore ; | his pond'rous shield, |
Etherial temper, mas sy, large', and round', |
Behind him cast; the broad circumferencea
Hung on his shoulders like the moon' | whose orb
Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views
At evening from the top of Fes'o-le,
Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands',
Riv'ers, or mountains,d in her spotty globe. I
His spear' (to equal which the tallest pine,
Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the mast
Of some great amiral, were but a wand') |
He walk'd with, | to support uneasy steps |
Over the burning marl, (not like those steps
On heaven's a'zure!) and the torrid clime
Smote on him sore besides, vaulted with fire :|
Nathless he so endur'd, till on the beach
Of that inflamed sea he stood, and call'd
His legions, angel-forms | who lay entranc'd

a Sêr-kům'fe-rens. b Gallileo. He was born at Florence, the capital of Tuscany, in Italy. Valdarno, Valle'di Arno (Italian), the vale of the Arno, a delightful valley in Tuscany. Moun'tinz. • Am'i-ral (French), admiral. A'žůr. Nåth'lês.

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Thick as autumnal leaves | that strow the brooks
In Vallombrosa | where the Etrurian shades,
High over-arch'd, imbow'r ; or scatter'd sedge,
Afloat, when with fierce winds, Orion, arm'd, I
Hath vex'd the Red-Sea coast whose waves o'erthrew
Busiris, and his Memphiane chiv`alry,f |
While with perfidious hatred | they pursu'd
The sojournersh of Go' shen, who beheld
From the safe shore, their floating carcasses, 1
And broken chariot wheels: so thick bestrown, |
Abject, and lost, | lay these, covering the flood,
Under amazement of their hideous' change.
He call'd so loud, that all the hollow deep
Of hell resound.ed! |

Speech.

ff Princes, po'tentates, I

can seize

Warriors, the flow'r of heav'n, once yours, now lost, I
If such astonishment' as this
Eternal spirits: | ir or have ye chosen this place,
After the toil of battle, to repose

Your wearied vîrtue, | for the ease you find
To slum ber here, | as in the vales of heav'n? |
"Or, in this abject posture, have ye sworn
To adore the Conq''ror? | who now beholds"
Cherub, and seraph, | rolling in the flood |
With scatter'd arms, and ensigns; | till anon
His swift pursuers, | from heav'n-gates | discerno
The advantage, and descending, tread us down', I
Thus drooping; or, with linked thunderbolts, |
Transfix' us to the bottom of this gulf.
fff Awake! arise'! | or be for ever fallen! |

A-tům'nål. b Vallombrosa (válle, a vale; ombróso, shady), a shady valley in the Apennines, fifteen miles east of Florence. Ori'on, a constellation, in the southern hemisphere. Busi'ris, Pharaoh. e Memphian, from Memphis, ancient capital of Egypt. Tshiv'al-rè, & Per-fid'yůs. So'džurn-ůrż. i A-máž'ment. Hidè-ús. * Wâr'yůrż. 1 Äs-tòn'îsh-mênt. m E-tèr'nål. not burholds. Diz-zèrn'.

h

Be-hold,

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a

n

OSSIAN'S ADDRESS TO THE SUN.

O thou that rollest above, | round as the shield of my fathers! Whence are thy beams', O sun', thy everlasting light? | Thou comest forth in thy awful beauty; | the stars hide themselves in the sky; the moon, cold, and pale', sinks in the western wave. But thou thyself, movest alone: | who can be, a companion of thy course? |

The oaks of the mountains, fall; the mountains themselves, decay with years; the ocean shrinks, and grows again; the moon herself is lost in heavn; | but thou art for ever the same, rejoicing in the brightness of thy course.

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When the world is dark with tempests', 'when thunder rolls, and lightning flies', I thou lookest in thy beauty from the clouds', 'and laugh'est at the storm. "But, to Ossian, thou lookest in vain; | for he, beholds thy beams no more, whether thy yellow hairs, flow on the eastern clouds', or thou tremblest at the gates of the west. I

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But thou art, perhaps, like me' for a season: | thy years will have an end. Thou shalt sleep in the clouds', careless of the voice of the morning. | 4Exult, then, O sun', in the strength of thy youth! 'Age, is dark, and unlovely: it is like the glimmering light of the moon', when it shines through broken clouds'; | and the mist, is on the hills, the blast of the north, is on the plain', the traveller, shrinks in the midst of his journey.

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TELL'S ADDRESS TO THE MOUNTAINS.
(KNOWLES.)

#Ye crags, and peaks', | I'm with you once again ;f |
I hold to you the hands you first beheld, |

C

He, beholds

• Moun'tinz. b Moon herself, not moo'-ner-self. thy beams; not He'be holds thy beams. d Ossian was blind. Crags and peaks; not cragz'n peaks, nor crags Ann Peaks. Agên'.

e

f

To show they still are free. | 'Methinks, I hear
A spirit in your echoes, an'swer me, |

I

And bid your tenant, welcome to his home',
Again! O sacred forms, | how proud you look !
How high you lift your heads into the sky'! |
How huge you are! | how mighty, and how free ! |
Ye are the things that tow'r-that shine whose smile
Makes glad whose frown, is terrible-whose forms,
Robed, or un robed, I do all the impress wear, |
Of awe divine. | Ye guards of liberty,
I'm with you once again! fff I call to you
With all my voice! — │I hold hands to you, I
To show, they still are free - | I rush to you, I
As though, I could embrace, you'! |

}

my

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BATTLE OF HOHENLINDEN.

(CAMPBELL.)

On Linden," when the sun was low',
All bloodless, lay the untrodd'n_snow1, |
And dark as win'ter, was the flow' |
Of Iser rolling rapidly. I

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But Linden saw another sight, |
When the drum beat at dead of night, |
Commanding fires of death, to light |
The darkness of her sceneryi. T

By torch, and trumpet fast array'd', |
Each horseman', drew his battle blade;|
And furious, every charger, neigh'd', |
To join the dreadful revelry. |

Still, are; not stillar. b Methinks I; not me-think' si.

Huge, you
Lin'-
Trump'it.

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Agen. d Proud, you look; not prow'jew-look.

are; not hew'jew-are. Embrace you; not embra'shew. dên; not Lindun. b E'sûr. i Sèn'er-è; not sce'nury. Hårs'mân; not hosmun.

e

Then shook the hills, with thunder riv'n;|
Then rush'd the steed, to battle driv'n;|
And louder than the bolts of heav'n, |

Far flash'd the red artillery". |

And redder yet those fires shall glow', I
On Linden's hills of blood-stain'd snow; |
And darker yet,, shall be the flow', |
Of Iser, rolling rapidly. |

a

'Tis morn',
but scarce yon lurid sun' |
Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, 1
Where furious Frank, and fiery Hun', |
Shout in their sulph'rous canopy. |

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The combat deep'ns - On', ye brave', |
Who rush to glory, or the grave. !|
fff Wave, Munich, all thy banners, wave'! |
And charge with all thy chivalry® ! |

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mpFew, few shall part where many meet! |
The snow, shall be their winding-sheet,
And every turf beneath their feet',

Shall be a soldier's sepulchre.

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SPEECH OF ROLLA TO THE PERUVIAN ARMY.
[From Kotzebue's Pizarro]
(R. B. SHERIDAN.)

I

My brave associates! | partners of my toil', my feelings, and my fame! Can Rolla's words add vigour to the virtuoush energies which inspire your hearts'? No! you have judged as I have, the foulness of the crafty plea by which these bold invaders would delude you. Your generous spirit has compared as mine has, the mo'tives, which, in a war like this', can animate their minds, and ours. |

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Artil'lår-rè. b Lin'dên; not Lindun. c Kum'bât. e Tshival-rẻ. Bè-nèтн'. Rollåź; not Rolluz. ůs. i En ́ér-džèź. And ours; not Ann Dowers.

d Mu'nik.

b Vêr'tshu