"Already with the bridal myrtle crown'd For him in whom my very being was bound, I watch'd, with mingled fear and rapture glowing;

The marriage-torches cast their ruddy glare; They brought me in his corpse and laid it there, From seven deep wounds his crimson heart's blood flowing."

The second took the word with trembling tone: "Oh, not of shame! of blood the form alone That sleeping still or waking meets her view; My heart too opened to that breath divine, Anguish and rapture-they have both been mine;

For me the cup of love has mantled too.

The glory vanish'd from the lov'd one's head;
I saw him selfish, mean, his brightness fled,
And yet, alas, I lov'd him!-him alone!
He went; if shame still chain him to her side,
Or raving madness drive him far and wide,
I know not; but the grief is all my own."

She ceased; the third then sadly took the word:

"In one brief sentence all my sorrows dwell,
Till thou hast heard it, pause! consider well,
Ere yet the final judgment thou assign,
And learn my better right, too clearly proved.
Four words suffice me: I was never loved!
The palm of grief thou wilt allow is mine."
Madame de Pontes.

SORROW-Description of.

Look, who comes here! a grave unto a soul, Holding the eternal spirit, against her will, In the vile prison of afflicted breath. SORROW-Effects of.

Shakspeare.

Godly sorrow worketh repentance to salvation not to be repented of; but the sorrow of the world worketh death. For, behold, this self-same thing, that ye sorrowed after a godly sort, what carefulness it wrought in you; yea, what clearing of yourselves; yea, what indignation; yea, what fear; yea, what vehement desire; yea, what zeal; yea, what revenge! In all things you have approved yourselves to be clear in this matter.

St. Paul.

Byron.

Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, Makes the night morning, and the noon-tide night. Shakspeare.

He who has most of heart, knows most of sorrow, Bailey.

SORROW.

SORROW-Lessons of.

Sorrow seems sent for our instruction, as we darken the cages of birds when we would teach them to sing. Richter.

SORROW-a Messenger.

For sorrow is the messenger between
The poet and men's bosoms :-Genius can
Fill with unsympathising gods the scene,
But grief alone can teach us what is man.
Bulwer Lytton.

SORROW-Moderation in.

My friend enough to sorrow you have given,
The purposes of wisdom ask no more:
Be wise and cheerful; and no longer read
The form of things with an unworthy eye.
She sleeps in the calm grave, and peace is here.
I well remember that those very plumes,
Those weeds, and the high spear-grass on that
wall,

By mist and silver rain-drops silver'd o'er,
As once I pass'd, did to my heart convey
So still an image of tranquillity,

So calm and still, and look'd so beautiful,
Amid the uneasy thoughts that fill'd my mind,
That what we feel of sorrow and despair
From ruin and from change, and all the grief
The passing shows of Being leave behind,
Appear'd an idle dream, that would not live
Where meditation was. I turn'd away,
And walk'd along my road in happiness!

SORROW.

To tell of their existence,-how the time
Delights to linger in its flight! whilst joy,
All wanton laughing joy, can scarcely gain
The tribute of an hour, ere the sun
Hath shrouded him in night! E'en misery
Hath something fondly cherished in its sighs;
I've read of some that felt a throb in grief
So soothing, that it grew within their hearts
For ever, and when sorrow died away,
And infant pleasure trembled to their cell,
They have rejected change, and clung to that
Which custom had made dear, by mournful ties,
Too sacred to be broken.
Blanchard.

SORROW-Secret.

For his was not that open artless soul,
That feels relief by bidding sorrow flow;
Nor sought he friend to counsel or condole,
Whate'er his grief mote be, which he could
not control.
Byron.
SORROW-Sharpness of.

The first sharp sorrow, -ay, the breaking up
Of that deep fountain, never to be seal'd
Till we with Time close up the great account.
Caroline Bowles.

Around my steps

Floated his fame, like music, and I lived
But in the lofty sound. But when my heart
In one frail ark had ventured all, when most
He seem'd to stand between my soul and
heaven,-

Then came the thunderbolt !-'tis ever thus!
And the unquiet and foreboding sense
That thus 'twill ever be, doth link itself-
Darkly-with all deep love!--He died!
Mrs. Heme US.

SORROW-Smile of.

You've seen the lightning's flash at night,
Play brightly o'er a cloudy pile;
The moonshine tremble on the height,
When winter glances cold and bright;—
And like that flash, and like that light,
Is sorrow's vain and heartless smile. Whittier.

SORROW-Uses of.

Night brings out stars, as sorrows show us truths. Bailey

There are a thousand joyous things in life,
Which pass unheeded in a life of joy
As thine hath been, till breezy sorrow comes
To ruffle it; and daily duties paid
Hardly at first, at length will bring repose
To the sad mind that studies to perform them.
Talfourd.

Oh! when the retiring world melts away behind us to a small point, how we shall mourn

SORROWS AND PLEASURE-Treatment of.

That which the French proverb hath of sickness, is true of all evils, that they come on horseback, and go away on foot: we have often seen a sudden fall, or one meal's surfeit hath stuck by many to their graves; whereas pleasures come like oxen, slow and heavily, and go away like post-horses, upon the spur. Sorrows, because they are lingering guests, I will entertain but moderately; knowing that the more they are made of, the longer they will continue and for pleasures, because they stay not, and do but call to drink at my door, I will use them as passengers with slight respect. He is his own best friend, that makes least of both of them. Bishop Hall.

SOUL-Activity of the.

There is an active principle in the human soul, that will ever be exerting its faculties to the utmost stretch, in whatever employment, by the accidents of time and place, the general plan of education, or the customs and manners of the age and country, it may happen to find itself engaged. Blackstone.

SOUL-Aspiration of the.

Pitch thy behaviour low, thy projects high,
So shalt thou humble and magnanimous be.
Sink not in spirit; who aimeth at the sky
Shoots higher much than he that means a
tree,

A grain of glory, mixed with humbleness,
Cures both a fever and lethargicness. Herbert.

The wise man, I affirm, can find no rest
In that which perishes; nor will he lend
His heart to aught that doth on time depend.
Michael Angelo.

The soul that lives, ascends frequently, and runs familiarly, through the streets of the heavenly Jerusalem, visiting the patriarchs and prophets, saluting the apostles, and admiring the army of martyrs. So do thou lead on thy heart, and bring it to the palace of the Great King. Baxter.

SOUL-Development of the.

More truths than we look for are to be found in the old comparison between the development of the soul and that of the butterfly; for, in the caterpillar, instinct finds the plan of the future fabric which it has to work out. In the caterpillar lies hid, according to Swammerdam, the chrysalis; and this again, contains the butterfly, with its folded wings, and antennæ. And this pale imprisoned form goes through its successive labours, casting its skin, spinning for itself new bonds, and immuring itself in the cocoon, only that it may, at length, break forth to freedom, and, leaving behind it its slough, and renouncing for ever its coarse diet of leaves, sport henceforth amid the flowers, feed upon honey, and live for love. Oh! how do these similitudes speak the desires of the soul! How gladly would it, in its pupa state, be permitted to burst the chrysalis, and widely, fully expand those soft tender wings, that are bruised in its dungeon-tenement ! For is not this the consummation for which it bears a thousand sufferings-for which it undergoes privation and pain? Surely, it were a waste of energies, a harsh contradiction, if the butterfly, after its long imprisonment in the unsightly larva, after all its painful casting off its skin, its narrow swathing-bands, the dark dungeon of an almost torpid pupa, should come forth-nothing; or come forth in corruption, with its foul slough hanging around it as a shroud.

But men can believe all this-ready to believe all against God, but slow of heart to receive all that would speak of His infinite wisdom and infinite goodness! One cloudy day is sufficient to obscure from our view a whole life full of divine sunshine; and the

must hold;

Beyond the visible world she soars to seek (For what delights the sense is false and weak)

Ideal form, the universal mould.

the long, bright future. Wo do, indeed, live in a wonderful night of existence; and these anticipations, these presentiments are our moonlight. But does not this pre-suppose a Sun !

Richter.

SOUL-Progression of the.

To

There is not, in my opinion, a more pleasing and triumphant consideration in religion, than that of the perpetual progress which the soul makes towards the perfection of its nature, without ever arriving at a period in it. look upon the soul as going on from strength to strength, to consider that she is to shine for ever with new accessions of glory, and brighten to all eternity; that she will be still adding virtue to virtue, and knowledge to knowledge; carries in it something wonderfully agreeable to that ambition which is natural to the mind of man. Nay, it must be a prospect pleasing to God himself, to see His creation for ever beautifying in His eyes, and drawing nearer to Him, by greater degrees of resemblance.

SOUL-Protection of the.

Addison.

too, a breath of God, bestowed in heaven, but on earth never to be unfolded! Carlyle.

There are souls which fall from heaven like flowers, but ere they bloom are crushed under the foul tread of some brutal hoof. Richter.

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting;
The soul that rises with us our life's star,
Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar:

Not in entire forgetfulness,
And not in utter nakedness,
But trailing clouds of glory do we come,
From God who was our home:
Heaven lies about us in our infancy!
Shades of the prison-house begin to close
Upon the growing boy,

But he beholds the light and whence it flows,
He sees it in his joy;

The youth, who daily farther from the East
Must travel, still is Nature's priest,
And by the vision splendid

Is on his way attended;
At length the man perceives it die away,
And fade into the light of common day.
Wordsworth.

SOUL-Voice of the.

After all, let a man take what pains he may to hush it down, a human soul is an awful, ghostly, unquiet possession for a bad man to have. Who knows the metes and bounds of it? Who knows all its awful perhapses,-thoз0 shudderings and tremblings, which it can no

more live down than it can outlive its own eternity! What a fool is he who locks his door to keep out spirits, who has in his own bosom a spirit he dares not meet alone; whose voice, smothered far down, and piled over with mountains of earthliness, is yet like the forewarning trumpet of doom! Mrs. Stowe. SOUND-Succumbing to Time.

Sound even must succumb to the silent Richter. power of Time.

SOUNDS-Rural,

Not rural sights alone, but rural sounds
Exhilarate the spirits, and restore
The tone of languid nature. Mighty winds,
That sweep the skirts of some far-spreading
wood

of ancient growth, make music not unlike
The dash of ocean on his winding shore,
And lull the spirit while they fill the mind.
Cowper.

SOUNDS-Sympathy with.

There is in souls a sympathy with sounds, And as the wind is pitched the ear is pleased