4. Sink or swim, live or die, survive or perish, I give my hand and my heart to this vote! Sir, before God I believe the hour is come. My judgment approves this measure, and my whole heart is in it. All that I have, and all that I am, and all that I hope in this life, I am now ready to stake upon it; and I leave off as I began, that, live or die, survive or perish, I am for the declaration. It is my living sentiment, and, by the blessing of God, it shall be my dying sentiment:-Independence now, and Independence forever. WEBSTER.

MEDIAN

1. How beautiful this night! The balmiest sigh,
That vernal zephyrs breathe in evening's ear
Were discord to the speaking quietude,

That wraps this moveless scene. Heaven's ebon vault,
Studded with stars unutterably bright,

Through which the moon's unclouded grandeur rolls,
Seems like a canopy which love has spread

To curtain her sleeping world.

"Queen Mab."

2. So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan, that moves

SHELLEY.

To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls of death,
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,

Scourged to his dungeon; but, sustained and soothed
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
"Thanatopsis."

BRYANT.

3. And you, ye storms, howl out his greatness! Let your thunders roll like drums in the march of the God of armies! Let your lightnings write his name in fire on the midnight darkness; let the illimitable void of space become one mouth for song; and let the unnavigated ether, through its shoreless depths, bear

through the infinite remote the name of him whose goodness endureth forever! SPURGEON.

Hath reared these venerable columns; Thou

Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down
Upon the naked earth, and forthwith rose

All these fair ranks of trees. They in Thy sun
Budded, and shook their green leaves in Thy breeze,
And shot toward heaven.

"God's First Temples."

TERMINAL

1. But here I stand and scoff you! here I fling
Hatred and full defiance in your face!
Your Consul's merciful;-for this all thanks.
He dares not touch a hair of Catiline!

"Catiline's Defiance."

BRYANT.

GEORGE CROLY.

2. It is often said that time is wanted for the duties of religion. The calls of business, the press of occupation, the cares of life, will not suffer me, says one, to give that time to the duties of piety which otherwise I would gladly bestow. Say you this without a blush? You have no time, then, for the special service of that great Being whose goodness alone has drawn out to its present length your cobweb thread of life, whose care alone has continued you in possession of that unseen property which you call your time. BUCKINGHAM.

3. You've set me talking, sir; I'm sorry;

It makes me wild to think of the change!
What do you care for a beggar's story?
Is it amusing? You find it strange?

I had a mother so proud of me!

'Twas well she died before-Do you know If the happy spirits in heaven can see

The ruin and wretchedness here below?

"The Vagabonds."

TROWBRIDGE.

4. And, Douglas, more I tell thee here,
Even in thy pitch of pride,

Here in thy hold, thy vassals near,

I tell thee, thou'rt defied!
And, if thou said'st I am not peer
To any lord in Scotland here,
Lowland or Highland, far or near,
Lord Angus, thou hast lied!

"Marmion and Douglas."

COMPOUND

SIR WALTER SCOTT.

1. Gone to be married! gone to swear a peace!
It is not so; thou hast misspoke, misheard;
Be well advised, tell o'er thy tale again.
It cannot be; thou dost but say 't is so.

2. "Arm, warriors, arm for fight; the foe at hand, Whom fled we thought, will save us long pursuit this day."

THOROUGH

1. Ho! sound the tocsin from the tower,

And fire the culverin!

Bid each retainer arm with speed,-
Call every vassal in!

"The Baron's Last Banquet."

A. G. GREENE.

2. I conjure you, by that which you profess
(Howe'er you come to know it), answer me.
Tho you untie the winds, and let them fight
Against the churches; tho the yeasty waves
Confound and swallow navigation up;

Tho bladed corn be lodged, and trees blown down;
Tho castles topple on their warders' heads;

Tho palaces, and pyramids, do slope

Their heads to their foundations; tho the treasure
Of nature's germins tumble all together,

Even till destruction sicken,-answer me
To what I ask you.

"Macbeth."

SHAKESPEARE.

3. And now the martyr is moving in triumphal march, mightier than when alive.

INTERMITTENT

BEECHER.

1. Pity the sorrows of a poor old man,

Whose trembling limbs have borne him to your door, Whose days are dwindled to the shortest span; Oh! give relief, and Heav'n will bless your store. "The Beggar." THOMAS MOss.

2. I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness.
I never gave you kingdom, called you children.
You owe me no subscription. Why, then, let fall
Your horrible pleasure? Here I stand, your slave,—
A poor, infirm, weak, and despised old man.

3. We buried the old year in silence and sadness. To many it brought misfortune and affliction. The wife hath given her husband and the husband his wife at its stern behest; the father hath consigned to its cold arms the son in whom his life centered, and the mother hath torn from her bosom her tender babe and buried it in her heart in the cold, cold ground.

EDWARD BROOKS.

4. Save me, O God, for the waters are come in unto my soul. I sink in deep mire where there is no standing: I am come into deep water where the floods overflow me. I am weary of my crying; my throat is dried; mine eyes fail while I wait for my God.

RHYTHM

In the reading of both prose and poetry, there is a rhythmic movement that is physiological in its basis. The succession of heavy and light sounds, or accented and unaccented syllables, is in keeping with the action and reaction found in the larynx itself, where an alternate tension and relaxation of the vocal chords takes place. This marking of time is as natural as the beating of the pulse and is essential to musical utterance. Professor Raymond, in "Poetry as a Representative Art," says: "With exceptions, the fewness of which confirms the rule, all of our English words of more than one syllable must necessarily be accented in one way; and all of our articles, prepositions, and conjunctions of one syllable are unaccented, unless the sense very plainly demands a different treatment. These two facts enable us to arrange any number of our words so that accents shall fall on syllables separated by like intervals. The tendency to compare things, and to put like with like, which is in constant operation where there are artistic possibilities, leads men to take satisfaction in this kind of an arrangement; and when they have made it, they have produced rhythm."

1. In slumbers of midnight the sailor boy lay,
His hammock swung loose to the sport of the wind:
But watch-worn and weary his cares flew away,
And visions of happiness danced o'er his mind.

"The Sailor Boy's Dream."

DIMOND.

2. For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee,

And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.