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, I
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, I
Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands',
Riv'ers, or mountains, 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 !f) | and the torrid clime, I
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 |

C

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

C

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

Speech.

ff Princes, po'tentates, Warriors, the flow'r of heav'n, once yours', now lost, If such astonishment' as this' | can seize,

Eternal spirits: | ir or have ye chosen this place, |
After the toil of battle, to repose

Your wearied vîrtue, | for the êase you find
To slum ber here, as in the vales of heav'n? |
"Or, in this abject posture, | have ye sworn
To adore the Conqror? | 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', ]
Thus drooping; or, with linked thunderbolts,
Transfix' us to the bottom of this gulf. I

fff Awake! arise'! | or be for ever fallen! |

a A-tum'nål. Vallombrosa (válle, a vale; ombróso, shady), a shady valley in the Apennines, fifteen miles east of Florence. • Orl'on, a constellation, in the southern hemisphere. d Busi'ris, Pharaoh. e Memphian, from Memphis, ancient capital of Egypt. f Tshiv'al-rè. Per-fid'yůs. So'džurn-ůrż. i A-må'mènt. 1Hidè-ús. * Wâr'yůrż. 1 As‐tòn'ish-mẻnt. m E-tèr'nål. Bê-holda, not burholds. • Diz-zèrn'.

h

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? |

a

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

When the world is dark with tempests', 'when thunder rolls, and lightning flies', 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,d | whether thy yellow hairs | flow on the eastern clouds', or thou tremblest at the gates of the west. I

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.

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

e

Ye crags, and peaks', | I'm with you once again;f | I hold to you the hands you first' beheld1, |

⚫ Moun'tinz.

b Moon herself, not moo'-ner-self.

C

He

beholds

thy beams; not He'be holds thy beams. d Ossian was blind. Crags and peaks; not cragz'n peaks, nor crags Ann Peaks. 'Agèn'.

e

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

"And bid your tenant, welcome to his home',
Again! O sacred forms, | how proud, you looka !
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, 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 my hands to you, I
To show, they still, are free - I rush to you,
As though, I could embrace, you'! 1

с

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 Iserh rolling rapidly. I

1

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

By torch, and trumpet fast array'd', |
Each horseman, drew his battle blade; ]
And furious, every charger, neigh'd',

1

To join the dreadful revelry. |

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

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

e

Huge you & Lin'Trump'ît.

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

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. |

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

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®! |

Few, few shall part where many, meet! |
The snow, shall be their wind.ing-sheet, |
And every turf beneath their feet',

Shall be a soldier's sepulchre. |

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

My brave associates! | partners of my toil', | my feelings, and my fame! Can Rolla's words add

judged, as I have, | the by which these bold inYour generous spirit | has

vigour to the virtuoush energies which_inspire your hearts'? No! you have foulness of the crafty plea vaders would delude, you. compared as mine has, the motives, which, in a war like this', I can animate their minds, and ours.3 |

a

1

Artil'lår-rẻ. b Lin'dên; not Lindun. c Kům'båt. e Tshiv'al-rè. f Bè-nèтH'. g Rollåź; not Rolluz. ås. i En'èr-džèż. j And ours; not Ann Dowers.

a Munik. h Vertshu