« السابقةمتابعة »
And thought strange sleep'enchained her soul,
For no fond voice replied.
And said a lonely prayer,
As if that hand were there.
Gay sports and pastimes dear,
Who scorned the curb of fear.
Yet, ere at night I slept,
And down I fell and wept. 9 Youth came—the props of Virtue reeled !-
But oft at day's decline,
Blest Mother! was it thine ? 10 In foreign lands I traveled wide,
My pulse was bounding high,
And pleasure lured my eye;
Maintained its mystic sway,
With gentle force it lay.
As from the lowly sod,
Nor sin against thy God."
My kindly warmth away,
Yet when with lordly sway,
That guides the warrior throng ;
These manly locks among,
15 That hallowed touch was ne'er forgot!
And now, though Time hath set
These temples feel it yet.
A mother's holy prayer,
Relief of the Soldiers of the Revolution.—SPRAGUE. 1 GENTLEMEN tell us, that the law is too liberal ; that
it goes too far, and they would repeal it. They would take back even the little which they have given! And is this possible? Look abroad upon this wide extended land, upon its wealth, its happiness, its hopes; and then turn to the aged soldier, who gave you all, and see him descend in neglect and poverty to the tomb! The time is short. A few years and these remnants of a former age will no longer be seen. Then we shall in
dulge unavailing regrets for our present apathy : for, 2 how can the ingenuous mind look
grave injured benefactor? How poignant the reflection, that the time for reparation and atonement has gone for ever! In what bitterness of soul shall we look back upon the infatuation which shall have cast aside an opportunity, which never can return, to give peace to our consciences ! We shall then endeavor to stifle our convictions, by empty honors to their bones.
We shall raise high the monument, and trumpet loud their deeds,
but it will be all in vain. It cannot warm the hearts 3 which shall have sunk cold and comfortless to the earth. This is no illusion. How often do we see, in our public Gazettes, a pompous display of honors to the memory of some veteran patriot, who was suffered to linger out his latter days in unregarded penury!
“ How proud we can press to the funeral array
Whose pall shall be borne up by heroes to-morrow." We are profuse in our expressions of gratitude to 4 the soldiers of the revolution. We can speak long and
loud in their praise, but when asked to bestow something substantial upon them, we hesitate and palter. To them we owe every thing, even the soil which we tread, and the air of freedom which we breathe.
Let us not turn them houseless from habitations which they have erected, and refuse them even a pittance from the exuberant fruits of their own labors.
How sleep the brave, who sink to rest,
By fairy hands their knell is rung,
Comfort ye my People.—BIBLE.
Prepare ye the way of the Lord;
Make straight in the desert a highway for our God! 2 Every valley shall be exalted,
And every mountain and hill shall be made low:
For the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it.--
All flesh is grass,
And all the goodliness thereof is as the flower of the 3 field :
The grass withereth, the flower fadeth :
into the high mountain ;
Lift up thy voice with strength;
And shall gently lead those that are with young. 5 Who hath measured the waters in the hollow of his hand,
And meted out heaven with the span,
And taught him knowledge,
Behold! the nations are as a drop of a bucket,
To whom then will ye liken God? 7 Or what likeness will ye compare unto him ? The workman melteth a graven image And the goldsmith spreadeth it over with gold, And casteth silver chains. He that is so impoverished that he hath no oblation Chooseth a tree that will not rot; He seeketh unto him a cunning workman to prepare a
graven image, that shall not be moved. Have
ye not known ? have ye not heard ? Hath it not been told you from the beginning ? 8 Have ye not understood from the foundations of the
earth? It is He that sitteth upon the circle of the earth, And the inhabitants thereof are as grasshoppers; That stretcheth out the heavens as a curtain, And spreadeth them out as a tent to dwell in : That bringeth the princes to nothing ; He maketh the judges of the earth as vanity. Yea—they shall not be planted; Yea—they shall not be sown: 9 Yea-their stock shall not take root in the earth : And He shall also blow upon them, and they shall
wither, And the whirlwind shall take them away as stubble.
To whom then will ye liken Me, Or shall I be equal ? Saith the Holy One. Lift up your eyes on high, and behold ! Who hath created these things? That bringeth out their host by number: 10 He calleth them all by names: by the greatness of his
might, (for that he is strong in power) Not one faileth.