Under the opening eye-lids of the Morn, Toward heaven's descent had sloped his westering wheel. Tempered to the oaten flute; Rough Satyrs danced, and Fauns with cloven heel From the glad sound would not be absent long ; But, O the heavy change! now thou art gone! The willows, and the hazel copses green, Fanning their joyous leaves to thy soft lays. Or taint-worm to the weanling herds that graze, When first the white-thorn blows; wardrobe wear, Such, Lycidas, thy loss to shepherds' ear. Where were ye, Nymphs, when the remorseless deep Closed o'er the head of your loved Lycidas? For neither were ye playing on the steep, Where your old bards, the famous Druids, lie, Nor yet where Deva spreads her wizard stream: Had ye been there for what could that have done? Whom universal nature did lament, When, by the rout that made the hideous roar, Alas! what boots it with incessant care *Pron. time. Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise To scorn delights and live laborious days; Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears, Set off to the world, nor in broad rumor lies: Of so much fame in Heaven expect thy meed." And listens to the herald of the sea That came in Neptune's plea ; He asked the waves, and asked the felon winds, "What hard mishap hath doomed this gentle swain ?” And questioned every gust of rugged wings That blows from off each beaked promontory: They knew not of his story; And sage Hippotădes their answer brings, That not a blast was from his dungeon strayed; Sleek Panope with all her sisters played. It was that fatal and perfidious bark, Built in the eclipse, and rigged with curses dark, Return, Alpheus, the dread voice is past, That shrunk thy streams; return, Sicilian Muse, + Pron. are 'thuse Bring the råth primrose that forsaken dies, The musk-rose, and the well attired woodbine, And daffodillies fill their cups with tears, Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise; Where thou, perhaps, under the whelming tide, Weep no more, woful shepherds, weep no more, And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and, with new-spangled ore, So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high, Through the dear might of him that walked the waves; Thus sang the uncouth swain to the oaks and rills, LESSON CLIX. A Thunder-storm, among the Highlands of Scotland.-WILSON. AN enormous thunder-cloud had lain all day over BenNevis, shrouding its summit in thick darkness, blackening its sides and base, wherever they were beheld from the surrounding country, with masses of deep shadow, and especially flinging down a weight of gloom upon that magnificent glen that bears the same name with the mountain, till now the afternoon was like twilight, and the voice of all the streams was distinct in the breathlessness of the vast solitary hollow. The inhabitants of all the straths, vales, glens, and dells, round and about the monarch of Scottish mountains, had, during each successive hour, been expecting the roar of thunder and the deluge of rain; but the huge conglomeration of lowering clouds would not rend asunder, although it was certain that a calm, blue sky could not be restored till all that dreadful assemblage had melted away into torrents, or been driven off by a strong wind from the sea. All the cattle on the hills, and in the hollows, stood still or lay down in their fear-the wild deer sought in herds the shelter of the pine-covered cliffs-the raven hushed his hoarse croak in some grim cavern, and the eagle left the dreadful silence of the upper heavens. Now and then the shepherds looked from their huts, while the shadow of the thunder-clouds deepened the hues of their plaids and tartans; and at every creaking of the heavy branches of the pines, or wide-armed oaks, in the solitude of their inaccessible birth-place, the hearts of the lonely dwellers quaked, and they lifted up their eyes to see the first wide flash-the disparting of the masses of darkness-and paused to hear the long, loud rattle of heaven's artillery, shaking the foundations of the everlasting mountains. But all was yet silent. The pear came at last, and it seemed as if an earthquake had smote the silence. Not a tree-not a blade of grass moved, but the blow stunned, as it were, the heart of the solid globe. Then was there a low, wild, whispering, wailing voice, as of many spirits all joining together from every point of heaven-it died away-and then the rushing of rain was heard through the darkness; and, in a few minutes, down came all the mountain torrents in their power, and the sides of all the steeps were suddenly sheeted, far and wide, with waterfalls. The element of water was let loose to run its rejoicing race-and that of fire lent it illumination, whether sweeping in floods along the great open straths, or tumbling in cataracts from cliffs overhanging the eagle's eyrie.* Great rivers were suddenly flooded-and the little mountain rivulets, a few minutes before only silver threads, and in whose fairy basins the minnow played, were now scarcely fordable to shepherds' feet. It was time for the strongest to take shelter, and none now would have liked to issue from it; for a while there was real danger to life and limb in the many raging torrents, and in the lightning's flash, the imagination and the soul themselves were touched with awe in the long resounding glens, and beneath the savage scowl of the angry sky. It was such a storm as becomes an era among the mountains; and it was felt that before next morning there would be a loss of lives-not only among the beasts that perish, but among human beings overtaken by the wrath of that irresistible tempest. LESSON CLX. Death of old Lewis Cameron.-WILSON. THE music ceased, and Hamish Fraser, on coming back into the Shealing,† said, "I see two men on horseback coming up the glen-one is on a white horse." "Ay-blessed be God, that is the good priest-now will I die in peace. My last earthly thoughts are gone by-he will show me the salvation of Christ-the road that leadeth to eternal life. My dear son-good Mr. Gordon-I felt happy in your prayers and exhortations. But the minister of my own holy religion * Ey, in the first syllable of this word, has the same sound as in they. + Shealing-a shed, or hut. |