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thou resolvest to do, do it quickly; defer not until evening what the morning may accomplish.

3. Idleness is the parent of want and of pain; but the labor of virtue bringeth forth pleasure. The hand of diligence defeateth want; prosperity and success are the industrious man's attendants.

4. Who is he that hath acquired wealth, that hath risen to power, that hath clothed himself with honor, that is spoken of in the city with praise, and that standeth before the king in his council? Even he that hath shut out idleness from his house; and hath said to sloth-thou art my enemy.

5. He riseth up early, and lieth down late; he exerciseth nis mind with contemplation, and his body with action; and preserveth the health of both.

6. The slothful man is a burden to himself; his hours hang heavy on his head; he loitereth about; and knoweth not what he would do. His days pass away like the shadow of a cloud; he leaveth behind him no mark for remembrance.

7. His body is diseased for want of exercise; he wisheth for action, but hath not power to move. His mind is in darkness; his thoughts are confused; he longeth for knowledge, but hath no application. He would eat of the almond, but hateth the trouble of breaking the shell.

8. His house is in disorder; his servants are wasteful and riotous; and he runneth on towards ruin; he seeth it with his eyes; he heareth it with his ears; he shaketh his head and wisheth; but hath no resolution; until ruin cometh upon him like a whirlwind; and shame and repentance descend with him to the grave.

The Shortness of Life.

1. WE see the grass fall by the mower's scythe, and the gay flowers that adorn the meadows, unregarded, swept away. The green, the yellow, the crimson, the succulent, fall undistinguished before the fatal instrument that cuts them off. They are scattered on the ground, and withered by the intense heat of the day.

2. That blooming flower which stands the pride of the verdant field, glowing in beautiful colors, and shining with the dawn of the morning, ere the sun gains its meridian height, falls a sacrifice to the severing steel, and fades in the scorching rays of


3. Thus is it with human life-The thread is cut, and man falls into the silent tomb. Nothing can ward off the fatal stroke; the aged, old and infirm-manhood, in strength and vigor-. youth, in bloom and beauty—the infant, weak and helpless, are without distinction swept away by the scythe of the great destroyer, Death.

4. The active youth, who in the morning rises with health and vivacity, may at noon lie pale and motionless, at the feet of this great victor; and at the setting of the morrow's sun, be consigned to the dark and lonesome mansions of the dead. Cities and nations are subject to the same fate.

5. How soon is a flourishing town depopulated by a pestilential disease. How soon is a nation cut off by the raging of a direful war.

"O! that mine head were waters, and mine eyes
"Were fountains flowing like the liquid skies;
"Then would I give the mighty flood release,
"And weep a deluge for the human race."


The Faithful Greyhound.-M. DWIGHT.

1. THE story on which the following ballad is founded is traditionary. In a village at the foot of Snowdon,* Lewellyn the Great had a house. His father-in-law, King John, had made him a present of a hound named Gelert-a deg of extraordinary qualities, both in the family and in the chase.

2. On one occasion he staid away from the chase, as it would seem by instinct, that he might prove to be guardian of a young son of his master. On returning from the hunt, Lewellyn was met by Gelert, who fawned upon him, as usual, but was covered with blood.

3. Alarmed at the spectacle, the master pressed onward to the spot where his child's bed was placed, which he found overturned, and the covering and floor stained with blood, but no child to be seen.

4. After calling with a frantic voice, but receiving no answer, believing that Gelert had destroyed him, he plunged his sword into the heart of the faithful animal, who cast a piteous look at his master, gave a single yell, and expired.

* Snowdon, a mountain in Wales, 3,571 feet high above the level of the



5. The dying cry of the dog aroused the infant, and Lewellyn, hearing a noise, upon examining the bed-clothes which were lying near in a heap, he there found his son, who had just wakened from sleep, entirely safe and unhurt, while close by him lay the dead body of a hideous wolf, who had been killed by the faithful Gelert, while in the act of attempting to destroy the life of the child.

6. Lewellyn was struck with horror at the spectacle before him—after giving vent to his grief for the rash act of destroying the preserver of his son, he raised a splendid tomb over Gelert. The place still goes by the name of " Beth Gelert," or Gelert's Grave.

Beth Gelert, or the Grave of the Greyhound.-W. SPENCER.

1. THE spearman heard the bugle sound,
And cheerly smiled the morn,

And many a dog and many a hound
Obey'd Lewellyn's horn.

2. And still he blew a louder blast,
And gave a lustier cheer,

"Come Gelert, thou wert ne'er the last
"Lewellyn's horn to hear.

3. "Oh, where does faithful Gelert roam,
"The flower of all his race?

"So true, so brave, a lamb at home,

"A lion in the chase!"

4. 'Twas only at Lewellyn's board

The faithful Gelert fed;

He watch'd, he serv d, he cheer'd his lord,

And sentinel'd his bed.

5. In sooth he was a peerless hound,

The gift of Royal John ;*

But now, no Gelert could be found,
And all the chase rode on.

6. And now, as o'er the rocks and dells,
The gallant chidings rise,

All Snowdon's craggy chaos yells
The many mingled cries.

* John, king of England, A. D. 1199.

7. That day Lewellyn little loved
The chase of hart or hare,

And scant and small the booty proved-
For Gelert was not there.

8. Unpleased Lewellyn homeward hied;
When, near the portal seat,
His truant Gelert he espied,
Bounding his lord to greet.

9. But when he gained his castle door,
Aghast the chieftain stood;

The hound all o'er was smeared with gore,
His lips, his fangs ran blood.

10. Lewellyn gazed with fierce surprise;
Unused such looks to meet,

His favorite checked his joyful guise,
And crouched and licked his feet.

11. Onward in haste Lewellyn past,
And on went Gelert too,

And still where'er his eyes he cast,
Fresh blood drops shocked his view.
12. O'erturned his infant's bed he found
With blood stained covert rent;
And all around the walls and ground,
With recent blood besprent.

13. He called his child-no voice replied;
He searched with terror wild :

Blood, blood he found on every side,
But no where found his child.

14. "Vile brute! my child by thee's devoured. The frantic father cried,

And to the hilt his vengeful sword
He plunged in Gelert's side.

15. His suppliant looks, as prone he fell,
No pity could impart,

But still his Gelert's dying yell
Passed heavy o'er his heart.

16. Aroused by Gelert's dying yell,

Some slumberer wakened nigh,

What words the parent's joy could teil,
To hear his infant cry.

17. Conceal'd beneath a tumbled heap,
His hurried search had miss'd;

All glowing from his rosy sleep,
The cherub boy he kiss'd.

18. No wound had he, nor harm, nor dread;
But the same couch beneath,

Lay a gaunt wolf, all torn and dead,
Tremendous still in death.

19. Ah, what was then Lewellyn's pain?
For now the truth was clear;


His gallant hound the wolf had slain,
To save Lewellyn's heir.

20. Vain, vain was all Lewellyn's wo:
Best of thy kind, adieu!

The frantic blow that laid thee low,
This heart shall ever rue.

21. And now a gallant tomb they raise,
With costly sculpture deck'd;

And marble, storied with his praise,
Poor Gelert's bones protect.

22. There, never could the spearman pass,
Or forester, unmoved;

There, oft the tear-besprinkled grass
Lewellyn's sorrow proved.

23 And there he hung his horn and spear,
And there, as evening fell,

In fancy's ear, he oft would hear,
Poor Gelert's dying yell.

24. And 'till great Snowdon's rocks grow old,

And cease the storm to brave,

The consecrated spot shall hold
The name of "Gelert's Grave."



CHILD of mortality, whence comest thou? why is thy countenance sad, and why are thine eyes red with weeping?I have seen the rose in its beauty; it spread its leaves to the

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