mountains fall: the mountains themselves decay with years; the ocean shrinks and grows again: the moon herself is lost in heaven; but thou art for ever the same, rejoicing in the brightness of thy course. When the world is dark with tempests; when thunder rolls, and lightning flies; thou lookest in thy beauty, from the clouds, and laughest at the storm. But to Ossian, thou lookest in vain; for he beholds thy beams no more; whether thy yellow hair flows on the eastern clouds, or thou tremblest at the gates of the west. But thou art perhaps, like me, for a season, and thy years will have an end. Thou shalt sleep in thy clouds, careless of the voice of the morning. Exult 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. LESSON CXXX. Apostrophe to the Sun.-J. G. PERCIVAL. CENTRE of light and energy! thy way Is through the unknown void; thou hast thy throne, Morning, and evening, and at noon of day, Far in the blue, untended and alone: Ere the first-wakened airs of earth had blown, On didst thou march, triumphant in thy light; Then didst thou send thy glance, which still hath flown Wide through the never-ending worlds of night, And yet thy full orb burns with flash unquenched and bright Thy path is high in heaven ;-we cannot gaze * So thou, too, hast thy path around the Central Soul. Thou lookest on the earth, and then it smiles; When through their heaven thy changing car is borne ; Thou wheel'st away thy flight, the woods are shorn Of all their waving locks, and storms awake; All, that was once so beautiful, is torn By the wild winds which plough the lonely lake, The earth lies buried in a shroud of snow; Of their chilled frames, and then they proudly spurn All bands that would confine, and give to air Hues, fragrance, shapes of beauty, till they burn, When, on a dewy morn, thou dartest there Rich waves of gold to wreath with fairer light the fair. The vales are thine :-and when the touch of Spring And leaves behind a wave, that crinkles bright, The vales are thine; and when they wake from night, The hills are thine:-they catch thy newest beam, Flow and give brighter tints, than ever bud, Of many twinkling gems, as every glossed bough plays. Thine are the mountains,-where they purely lift Dazzling but cold;-thy farewell glance looks there And when below thy hues of beauty die, The clouds are thine; and all their magic hues * * These are thy trōphies, and thou bend'st thy arch, Her glad wings on the path, that thus in ether swells. The ocean is thy vassal;-thou dost sway Thou lookest on the waters, and they glow, And take them wings and spring aloft in air, And change to clouds, and then, dissolving, throw Their treasures back to earth, and, rushing, tear The mountain and the vale, as proudly on they bear. In thee, first light, the bounding ocean smiles, I hurry o'er the waters when the sail Swells tensely, and the light keel glances well Over the curling billow, and the gale Comes off from spicy groves to tell its winning tale. LESSON CXXXI. Apostrophe to the Ocean.-BYRON. THERE is a pleasure in the pathless woods, By the deep sea, and music in its roar. Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean-roll! When for a moment, like a drop of rain, The armaments which thunderstrike the walls And monarchs tremble in their capitals; The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake, * Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee- Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' play- Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Calm or convulsed-in breeze, or gale, or storm, Dark heaving;-boundless, endless, and sublime Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime And I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy my hand upon thy mane-as I do here. LESSON CXXXII. On the use and abuse of amusements.—ALISON. Ir were unjust and ungrateful to conceive that the amus. ments of life are altogether forbid by its beneficent Author. They serve, on the contrary, important purposes in the economy of human life, and are destined to produce important effects, both upon our happiness and character. They are, in the first place, in the language of the Psalmist, "the wells of the desert;" the kind resting-places in which toil may relax, in which the weary spirit may recover its tone, and where the desponding mind may resume its strength and its hopes. They are, in another view, of some importance to the dignity of individual character. In every thing we call amusement, there is generally some display of taste and imagination, some elevation of the mind from mere animal indulgence, or the baseness of sensual desire. Even in the scenes of relaxation, therefore, they have a tendency to preserve the dignity of human character, and to fill up the vacant and unguarded hours of life with occupations innocent, at least, if not virtuous. But their principal effect, |