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among the crowd; her eye hărried over the ship as it neared the shūre, to cătch some wished-for countenance. She seemed disappointed and agitated, when I heard a faint voice call her name. It was from a poor sailor, who had been ill all the voyage, and had excited the sympathy of every one on board. When the weather was fine, his messmates had spread a mattress for him on deck, in the shade ; but of late his illness had so increased that he had taken to his hammock, and only breathed a wish that he might see his wife before he died.
11. He had been helped on deck as we came up the river, and was now leaning against the shrouds, with a countenance so wasted, so pale, and so ghastly, that it is no wonder even the eye of affection did not rec'ognize him. But at the sound of his voice, her eye darted on his features, it read at once & whõle volume of sorrow; she clasped her hands, uttered a faint shriek, and stood wringing them in silent agony.
12. All now was húrry and bustle. The meetings of acquaintances—the greetings of friends—the consultations of men of business. I alone was solitary and idle. I had no friend to meet, no cheering to receive. I stepped upon the land of my forefathers—but felt that I was a stranger in the land.
138. THE TRAVELER.
W Where all is splendor, yệt where all is gloom :
And the harp slumbers in its customed nook.
Hath made this house the dwelling-place of woe!
Bears him to-morrow from his native land.
To tempt the ocean, and the earth to roam ?
Wealth he can boast a miser's sigh would hush,
So honored and so blessed, what bids him go ?4. His eye must see, his foot each spot must tread,
Where sleeps the dust of earth's recorded dead;
All that his fancy fired in youthful dreams.
Where Homer' poured his everlasting lay;
And wrings the hearts of all he loves on earth. 6. Yět say, shall not new joy those hearts inspire,
When, grouping round the future winter fire,
1 Hö'mer, the most distinguished Mantua, on the 15th of October, B. C. of poets, called the “Father of Song.” 70. He died on the 22d of Septem. He is supposed to have been an ber, B. C. 19, before completing his Asiatic Greek, though his birthfifty-first year. His body lies buried place, and the period in which he at the distance of two miles from lived, are not known.
the city of Naples. ? Virgil, (vêr jil), the most distin. • Avon, (& von), a river in Engguished of the Roman poets, was land, on the bank of which Shaks born at Andes, a small village of peare was born.
7. Look once again-cold in his cabin now,
Death's finger-mark is on his pallid brow;
And shared the wanderer’s blessing when he died.
His body to the deck they slowly bear;
The silent lecture of death’s sabbath hour!
And the last rite man pays to man is paid ;
139. THE BELL OF THE ATLANTIC.'
1. M OLL, tõll, toll, thou bell by billows swung; 1 And, night and day, thy warning words repeat with mourn
ful tongue! Toll for the queenly boat, wrecked on yon rocky shore! Sea-weed is in her palace halls; she rides the surge no more.
1 The steamboat Atlantic, plying Thanksgiving in New England. between Norwich, in Connecticut, The bell of this boat, supported by and New York, was wrecked on an a portion of the wreck, continued island near New London. Many of for many days and nights to toll as the passengers were on their way to if in mournful requiem of the lost. join in the celebration of the annual ? Surge, (sërj).
THE BELL OF THE ATLANTIC.
Tõll for the master bold, the high-souled and the brave,
3. Töll for the man of God, whose hallowed voice of prayer Rose calm above the stifled groan of that intense despair! How precious were those tones on that sad verge of life, Amid the fierce and freezing storm, and the mountain billows' strife!
4. Tõll for the lover lost to the summoned bridal train! Bright glows a picture on his breast, beneath th’unfathomed main. One from her casemènt gazèth lõng o'er the misty sea : He comèth not, pale maiden—his heart is cold to thee.
5. Toll for the absent sire, who to his home drew near, To bless a glad expecting group-fond wife and children dear! They heap the blazing hearth; the festal board is spread ; But a fearful guest is at the gate : room for the pallid dead!
6. Toll for the loved and fair, the whelmed beneath the tide The broken harps around whose strings the dull sea-monsters
glide! Mother and nursling sweet, reft from their household thrõng ; There's bitter weeping in the nest where breathed their soul of
Toll for the hearts that bleed ’neath misery's furrowing trace!
8. . .
LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY.
m the Orient,' converend nărrowing every
VI. 140. THE WRECK OF THE ARCTIC. TT was autumn. Hundreds had wended their way from pil
1 grimages ; from Rome and its treasures of dead art, and its glory of living nature ; from the sides of the Switzer's mountains, from the capitals of vārious nations ; all of them saying in their hearts, we will wait for the September gales to have done with their equinoctial' fury, and then we will embark ; we will slide across the appeased ocean, and in the gorgeous month of October, we will greet our longed-for native land, and our heartloved homes.
2. And so the throng streamed ălõng from Ber'lin, from Paris, from the Orient, converging upon London, still hastening toward the welcome ship, and nărrowing every day the circle of engagements and preparations. They crowded ăboard. Never had the Arctic borne such a host of passengers, nor passengers so nearly related to so many of us.
3. The hour was come. The signal ball fell at Greenwich.' It was noon also at Liverpool. The anchors were weighed; the great bull swayed to the córrent; the nătional colors streamed abroad, as if themselves instinct with life and national sympathy. The bell strikes; the wheels revolve; the signal-gun beats its echoes in upon every structure ălong the shore, and the Arctic glides joyfully forth from the Mersey, and turns her prow to the winding channel, and begins her homeward run.
4. The pilot stood at the wheel, and men saw him. Death sat upon the prow, and no eye beheld him. Whoever stood at the wheel in all the voyage, Death was the pilot that steered the craft, and none knew it. He nēither revealed his presence nor whispered his ěrrand. And so hope was effulgent, and litheo gayety disported itself, and joy was with every guest.
5. Amid all the inconveniences of the voyage, there was still that which hushed every murmur-home is not far ăway. And
1 E'qui noc' tial, pertaining to the East; hence, the countries of the equinoxes, or the time when the Asia ; the early seat of learning. day and night are of equal length. Greenwich, (grin'ij). This occurs on the 21st of March 4 Ef fúl' gent, shining with a flood and the 23d of September.
of light; bright. 'Orient, place of the rising sun; Lithe, pliant; easily bent.