6. Yet Love will dream and Faith will trust, The stars shine through his cypress trees! And Love can never lose its own! J. G. Whittier. LESSON 99. OVERTHROW OF BELSHAZZAR. ELSHAZZAR is king! Belshazzar is lord! And a thousand dark nobles all bend at his board;Fruits glisten, flowers blossom, meats steam, and a flood Of the wine that man loveth, runs redder than blood : Wild dancers are there, and a riot of mirth, And the beauty that maddens the passions of earth; Till the vast roofs ring, "All praise to Belshazzar, Belshazzar the king!" 2. Bring forth," cries the monarch, "the vessels of gold Which my father tore down from the temples of old: Bring forth; and we'll drink, while the trumpets are blown, To the gods of bright silver, of gold, and of stone: Bring forth!" and before him the vessels all shine, And he bows unto Baal, and he drinks the dark wine; แ While the trumpets bray, And the cymbals ring, Praise, praise to Belshazzar, Belshazzar the king!” 3. Now, what cometh? look, look! - Without menace, or call, Who writes, with the lightning's bright hand, on the wall? What pierceth the king, like the point of a dart? What drives the bold blood from his cheek to his heart? "Chaldeans! magicians! the letters expound!" They are read; — and Belshazzar is dead on the ground! Hark! the Persian is come, On a conqueror's wing; And a Mede 's on the throne of Belshazzar the king! Barry Cornwall. LESSON 100. DEATH OF LITTLE NELL. HE was dead. No sleep so beautiful and calm, so SHE free from trace of pain, so fair to look upon. She seemed a creature fresh from the hand of God, and waiting for the breath of life; not one who had lived and suffered death. Her couch was dressed with here and there some winter-berries and green leaves, gathered in a spot she had been used to favor. "When I die, put near me something that has loved the light, and had the sky above it always." Those were her words. 2. She was dead. Dear, gentle, patient, noble Nell was dead. Her little bird, a poor, slight thing, which the pressure of a finger would have crushed, was stirring nimbly in its cage; and the strong heart of its childmistress was mute and motionless forever. Where were the traces of her early cares, her sufferings, and fatigues? All gone. Sorrow was dead, indeed, in her; but peace and perfect happiness were born - imaged in her tranquil beauty and profound repose. And still her former self lay there, unaltered in this change. 3. Yes; the old fireside had smiled upon that same sweet face, which had passed, like a dream, through haunts of misery and care. At the door of the poor schoolmaster on the summer evening, before the furnace-fire upon the cold wet night, at the same still bedside of the dying boy, there had been the same mild and lovely look. 4. The old man took one languid arm in his, and held the small hand to his breast for warmth. It was the hand she had stretched out to him with her last smile, the hand that had led him on through all their wanderings. Ever and anon he pressed it to his lips; then hugged it to his breast again, murmuring that it was warmer now; and, as he said it, he looked in agony to those who stood around, as if imploring them to help her. 5. She was dead, and past all help or need of it. The ancient rooms she had seemed to fill with life, even while her own was waning fast, the garden she had tended, the eyes she had gladdened, the noiseless haunts of many a thoughtful hour, the paths she had trodden, as it were, but yesterday, could know her no more. 6. She had been dead two days. They were all about her at the time, knowing that the end was drawing on. She died soon after daybreak. They had read and talked to her in the earlier portion of the night; but, as the hours crept on, she sunk to sleep. They could tell, by what she faintly uttered in her dreams, that they were of her journeyings with the old man: they were of no painful scenes, but of those who had helped and used them kindly; for she often said "God bless you!" with great fervor. Waking, she never wandered in her mind but once ; and that was at beautiful music which she said was in the air. God knows. It may have been. 7. Opening her eyes at last from a very quiet sleep, sho begged that they would kiss her once again. That done, she turned to the old man, with a lovely smile upon her face, such, they said, as they had never seen, and never could forget, and clung with both arms about his neck. They did not know that she was dead at first. 8. She had spoken very often of the two sisters, who, she said, were like dear friends to her. She wished they could be told how much she thought about them, and how she had watched them as they walked together by the river-side. She would like to see poor Kit, she had often said of late. She wished there was somebody to take her love to Kit, and even then she never thought or spoke about him but with something of her old, clear, merry laugh. 9. For the rest, she had never murmured or complained; but, with a quiet mind, and manner quite unaltered, save that she every day became more earnest and more grateful to them, she faded like the light upon the summer's evening. 10. The child who had been her little friend came there, almost as soon as it was day, with an offering of dried flowers, which he asked them to lay upon her breast. He begged hard to see her, saying that he would be very quiet, and that they need not fear his being alarmed, for he sat alone by his younger brother all day long when he was dead, and had felt glad to be so near him. 11. They let him have his wish; and, indeed, he kept his word; and was, in his childish way, a lesson to them all. Up to that time the old man had not spoken once,— except to her, or stirred from the bedside. But, when he saw her little favorite, he was moved as they had not seen him yet, and made as though he would have come nearer. 12. Then, pointing to the bed, he burst into tears for the first time; and they who stood by, knowing that the sight of this child had done him good, left them alone together. Soothing him with his artless talk of her, the child persuaded him to take some rest, to walk abroad, to do almost as he desired him. And when the day came on which they must remove her in her earthly shape from earthly eyes forever, he led him away, that he might not know when she was taken from him. 13. And now the bell the bell she had so often heard by night and day, and listened to it with solemn pleasure, almost as a living voice-rung its remorseless toll for her, so young, so beautiful, so good. Decrepit age, and vigorous life, and blooming youth, and helpless infancy, poured forth on crutches, in the pride of health and strength, in the full blush of promise, in the mere dawn of life to gather round her tomb. 14. Old men were there, whose eyes were dim and senses failing; grandmothers, who might have died ten years ago and still been old; the deaf, the blind, the lame, the palsied, the living dead, in many shapes and forms, were there, to see the closing of that early grave. Along the crowded path they bore her now, pure as the newlyfallen snow that covered it, whose day on earth had been as fleeting. 15. Under that porch, where she had sat when Heaven in its mercy brought her to that peaceful spot, she passed again; and the old church received her in its quiet shade. They carried her to an old nook, where she had many and many a time sat musing, and laid their burden softly on the pavement. The light streamed on it through the colored window,- a window where the boughs of trees were ever rustling in the summer, and where the birds sang sweetly all day long. With every breath of air that stirred among those branches in the sunshine, some trembling, changing light would fall upon her grave. 16. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust! Many |