Unseen hands of spirits are ringing his knell,

And the death-angel flaps his broad wing o'er the wave! 10. O sailor boy! wo to thy dream of delight!

In darkness dissolves the gay frost-work of bliss. Where now is the picture that fancy touched bright, Thy parents' tond pressure and love's honied kiss. 11. O sailor boy! sailor boy! never again

Shall home, love, or kindred, thy wishes repay; Unblessed, and unhonored, down deep in the main Full many a score fathom, thy frame shall decay. 12. No tomb shall e'er plead to remembrance for thee,

Or redeem form or fame from the merciless surge; But the white foam of waves shall thy winding-sheet be, And winds, in the midnight of winter, thy dirge! 13. On a bed of green sea-flower thy limbs shall be laid; Around thy white bones the red coral shall grow; Of thy fair yellow locks threads of amber be made, And every part suit to thy mansion below.

14. Days, months, years, and ages, shall circle away, And still the vast waters above thee shall roll; Earth loses thy pattern for ever and aye

O sailor boy! sailor boy! peace to thy soul!

LESSON CXXX.

Verses supposed to be written by Alexander Selkirk, during his solitary abode in the Island of Juan Fernandez.*-Cowper.

1. I AM monarch of all I survey,
My right there is none to dispute;
From the centre, all round to the sea,
I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
O solitude! where are the charms,
That sages have seen in thy face?
Better dwell in the midst of alarms,

Than reign in this horrible place.

The island of Juan Fernandez lies to the west of South America, about three hundred miles from the coast of Chili. Alexander Selkirk, a seaman, a native of Scotland, was put ashore by his captain, and left in this solitary place, where he lived several years. This gave rise to the celebrated romance of Robinson Crusoe.

2. I am out of humanity's reach,

I must finish my journey alone; Never hear the sweet music of speech; I start at the sound of my own. The beasts that roam over the plain, My form with indifference see: They are so unacquainted with man, Their tameness is shocking to me. 3. Society, friendship, and love,

Divinely bestowed upon man, Oh had I the wings of a dove, How soon would I taste you again! My sorrows I then might assuage In the ways of religion and truth; Might learn from the wisdom of age, And be cheer'd by the sallies of youth 4. Religion! what treasure untold Resides in that heavenly word! More precious than silver or gold, Or all that this earth can afford. But the sound of the church-going bell These valleys and rocks never heard Ne'er sigh'd at the sound of a knell,

Or smiled when a sabbath appear'd. 5. Ye winds that have made me your sport Convey to this desolate shore,

Some cordial endearing report

Of a land I shall visit no more. My friends, do they now and then send A wish or a thought after me? O tell me I yet have a friend,

Though a friend I am never to see. 6. How fleet is a glance of the mind! Compar'd with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind,

And the swift-wing'd arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there; But, alas! recollection at hand

Soon hurries me back to despair.

7. But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest,
The beast is laid down in his lair ;*
Even here is a season of rest,
And I to my cabin repair
There's mercy in every place;
And mercy-encouraging thought,
Gives even affliction a grace,
And reconciles man to his lot.

LESSON CXXXI.

The Hermit.-PARNELL.

1. FAR in a wild, unknown to public view,
From youth to age a rev'rend hermit grew.
The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell,
His food the fruits, his drink the crystal well:
Remote from man, with God he pass'd the days,
Prayer all his business, all his pleasure praise.

2. A life so sacred, such serene repose,
Seem'd heaven itself, till one suggestion rose:
That vice should triumph, virtue vice obey;
Thus sprung some doubt of Providence's sway.
His hopes no more a certain prospect boast,
And all the tenor of his soul is lost.

3. So, when a smooth expanse receives, imprest Calm nature's image on its wat'ry breast,

Down bend the banks; the trees, depending, grow;
And skies, beneath, with answ'ring colors glow:
But if a stone the gentle sea divide,

Swift ruffling circles curl on ev'ry side;

And glimm'ring fragments of a broken sun,

Banks, trees and skies in thick disorder run.

4. To clear this doubt; to know the world by sight; To find if books or swains report it right;

(For yet by swains alone the world he knew,

Whose feet came wand'ring o'er the nightly dew,)
He quits his cell; the pilgrim staff he bore,
And fix'd the scallopt in his hat before;
Then, with the sun a rising journey went,
Sedate to think, and watching each event.

* Lair, the bed or couch of a wild beast.

+ Scallop, a shell, carried by pilgrims in their hat, with which they dipped water to quench their thirst when travelling.

5. The morn was wasted in the pathless grass,
And long and lonesome was the wild to pass:
But when the southern sun had warm'd the day,
A youth came posting o'er the crossing way;
His raiment decent, his complexion fair,

And soft, in graceful ringlets wav'd his hair.

6. Then near approaching, "Father, hail!" he cry'd:
"And hail! my son," the rev'rend sire reply'd:
Words follow'd words; from question answer flow'd;
And talk of various kind deceiv'd the road;
Till, each with other pleas'd, and loth to part,
While in their age they differ, join in heart.
Thus stands an aged elm in ivy bound;
Thus youthful ivy clasps an elm around.

7. Now sunk the sun; the closing hour of day
Came onward, mantled o'er with sober gray;
Nature, in silence, bid the world repose;
When, near the road, a stately palace rose:

There, by the moon, through ranks of trees they pass,
Whose verdure crown'd their sloping sides of grass.
8. It chanced the noble master of the dome
Still made his house the wand'ring stranger's home:
Yet still, the kindness, from a thirst of praise,
Prov'd the vain flourish of expensive ease.
The pair arrive; the liv'ry'd servants wait,
Their lord receives them at the pompous gate;
A table groans with costly piles of food;
And all is more than hospitably good.
Then, led to rest, the day's long toil they drown,
Deep sunk in sleep, and silk, and heaps of down.

9. At length 'tis morn; and at the dawn of day,
Along the wide canals the zephyrs* play;
Fresh o'er the gay parterres, the breezes creep,
And shake the neighb'ring wood, to banish sleep.
Up rise the guests obedient to the call;
An early banquet deck'd the splendid hall;
Rich luscious wine a golden goblet grac'd,

Which the kind master forc'd the guests to taste.

10. Then, pleas'd and thankful, from the porch they go; And, but the landlord, none had cause of woe;

His cup was vanish'd; for in secret guise,

The younger guest purloin'd‡ the glitt❜ring prize.

A calm soft wind.

† A flower bed.

+ Purloin, to steal

As one who sees a serpent in his way,
Glist'ning and basking in the summer ray,
Disorder'd stops to shun the danger near,
Then walks with faintness on, and looks with fear;
So seem'd the sire, when, far upon the road,
The shining spoil his wily partner show'd.

11. He stopt with silence, walk'd with trembling heart, And much he wish'd, but durst not ask to part: Murm'ring he lifts his eyes, and thinks it hard, That gen'rous actions meet a base reward. While thus they pass the sun his glory shrouds: The changing skies hang out their sable clouds: A sound in air presag'd approaching rain, And beasts to covert scud across the plain,

12. Warn'd by the signs the wand'ring pair retreat, To seek for shelter in a neighb'ring seat, "Twas built with turrets on a rising ground; And strong and large, and unimprov'd around: Its owner's temper, tim'rous and severe, Unkind and griping, caus'd a desert there.

13. As near the miser's heavy doors they drew,
Fierce rising gusts with sudden fury blew;
The nimble lightning, mix'd with showers began,
And o'er their heads loud rolling thunder ran.
Here long they knock; but knock or call in vain,
Driven by the wind, and batter'd by the rain.

14. At length some pity warm'd the master's breast: ('Twas then his threshold first receiv'd a guest ;) Slow creaking turns the door, with jealous care, And half he welcomes in the shiv'ring pair. One frugal faggot lights the naked walls, And nature's fervor through their limbs recalls; Bread of the coarsest sort, with meagre wine, (Each hardly granted,) serv'd them both to dine; And when the tempest first appear'd to cease, A ready warning bid them part in peace.

15. With still remark, the pond'ring hermit view'd, In one so rich, a life so poor and rude:

"And why should such," within himself he cry'd,
"Lock the lost wealth, a thousand want beside ?"
But what new marks of wonder soon took place,
In every settling feature of his face,

When from his vest, the young companion bore
That cup, the gen'rous landlord own'd before,