Delightful Summer! then adieu
Till thou shalt visit us anew:
But who without regretful sigh
Can say adieu, and see thee fly?
Not he that e'er hath felt thy power,
His joy expanding like a flower

That cometh after rain and snow,

Looks up at heaven, and learns to glow:-
Not he that fled from Babel-strife

To the green Sabbath-land of life,
To dodge dull Care 'mid clustered trees,
And cool his forehead in the breeze,
Whose spirit, weary-worn perchance,
Shook from its wings a weight of grief,
And perched upon an aspen-leaf,
For every breath to make it dance.

Farewell! on wings of somber stain,
That blacken in the last blue skies,
Thou fly'st; but thou wilt come again.
On the gay wings of butterflies.
Spring at thy approach will sprout
Her new Corinthian beauties out;
Leaf-woven homes, where twitter-words
Will grow to songs, and eggs to birds;
Ambitious buds shall swell to flowers,
And April smiles to sunny hours.
Bright days shall be, and gentle nights,
Full of soft breath and echo-lights,
As if the god of sun-time kept

His eyes half open while he slept.
Roses shall be where roses were,
Not shadows, but reality;

As if they never perished there,

But slept in immortality :

Nature shall thrill with new delight,

And Time's relumined river run

Warm as young blood, and dazzling bright
As if its source were in the sun!

But still for Summer dost thou grieve?
Then read our poets they shall weave
A garden of green fancies still,
Where thy wish may rove at will.
They have kept for after treats
The essences of Summer sweets,
And echoes of its songs that wind
In endless music through the mind:
They have stamped in visible traces

The "thoughts that breathe" in words that shine-
The flights of soul in sunny places
To greet and company with thine.
These shall wing thee on to flowers-
The past or future that shall seem
All the brighter in thy dream
For blowing in such desert hours.
The Summer never shines so bright
As thought of in a Winter's night;
And the sweetest, loveliest rose
Is in the bud before it blows.

Dream thou then, and bind thy brow
With wreath of fancy roses now,
And drink of Summer in the cup
Where the Muse hath mixed it up.

THOMAS HOOD.

THE FORTUNE OF THE REPUBLIC.

The distinction and end of a soundly constituted man is his labor. Use is inscribed on all his faculties. Use is the end to which he exists. As the tree exists for its fruit, so a man for his work. A fruitless plant, an idle animal, does not stand in the universe. They are all toiling, however secretly or slowly, in the province assigned them, and to a use in the economy of the world; the higher and more complex organizations to higher and more catholic service.

And man seems to play, by his instincts and activity, a certain part that even tells on the general face of the planet, drains swamps, leads rivers into dry countries, for their irrigation, perforates forests and stony mountain chains with roads, hinders the inroads of the sea on the continent, as if dressing it for happier races. . . .

Justice satisfies everybody, and justice alone. No monopoly must be foisted in, no weak party or nationality sacrificed, no coward compromise conceded to a strong partner. Every one of these is the seed of vice, war, and national disorganization.

It is our part to carry out to the last the ends of liberty and justice. We shall stand, then, for vast interests; North and South, East and West will be present to our minds, and our vote will be as if they voted, and we shall know that our vote secures the

foundation of the state, good will, liberty, and security of traffic and of production, and mutual increase of good will in the great interests.

Our helm is given up to a better guidance than our own; the course of events is quite too strong for any helmsman, and our little wherry is taken in tow by the ship of the great Admiral. which knows the way, and has the force to draw men and states and planets to their good. Such and so potent is this high method by which the Divine. Providence sends the chiefest benefits under the mask of calamities, that I do not think we shall by any perverse ingenuity prevent the blessing.

In seeing this guidance of events, in seeing this felicity without example that has rested on the Union thus far, I find new confidence for the future. I could heartily wish that our will and endeavor were more active parties to the work. But I see in all directions the light breaking. Trade and government will not alone be the favored aims of mankind, but every useful, every elegant art, every exercise of imagination, the height of reason, the noblest affection, the purest religion, will find their home in our institutions and write our laws for the benefit of men.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

CORIOLANUS.

[There was war between the Romans and the Volscians. Coriolanus, one of the Roman generals, having been humiliated by the Roman rulers, had gone over to the enemy. Read Shakespeare's Coriolanus."]

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There was so much of disagreement that the Roman nobles would have had recourse to war to rid them of the enemy, but the Commons were urgent that they should seek for conditions of peace. And this opinion prevailed.

Ambassadors therefore were sent to Coriolanus, to whom he gave this answer only: "When ye shall have given back all their lands to the Volscians, then ye may talk of peace. But if ye seek to enjoy in peace that which ye took for yourselves by war, ye shall see that I forget neither what wrong I suffered from my own people, nor what kindness I have received from my hosts."

And when the ambassadors were sent a second time, he would not suffer them to enter the camp. After them came the priests, bearing the emblems of their office; nor did these prevail more than the ambassadors.

Then a great company of women came to Veturia, the mother of Coriolanus, and to Volumnia, that was his wife....

These women then prevailed with Veturia, though she was now well stricken in years, and with Volumnia, that they should go to the camp of Coriolanus ;