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See stern Oppression's iron grip,
Or mad Ambition's


Sending, like blood-hounds from the slip,

Wo, Want, and Murder o'er a land!
Even in the peaceful rural vale,

Truth, weeping, tells the mournful tale,
How pampered Luxury,-Flattery by her side,

The parasite empoisoning her ear,

With all the servile wretches in the rear, Looks o'er proud property, extended wide,

And eyes the simple rustic hind,
Whose toil upholds the glittering show,
A creature of another kind,
Some coarser substance, unrefined,
Placed for her lordly use thus far, thus vile, below.

Where, where is Love's fond, tender throe,
With lordly Honor's lofty brow,

The powers you proudly own?
Is there, beneath Love's noble name,
Can harbor, dark, the selfish aim,

To bless himself alone ?



O ye ! who, sunk in beds of down,
Feel not a want but what yourselves create,
Think, for a moment, on his wretched fate

Whom friends and fortune quite disown!
Ill satisfied keen nature's clamorous call,

Stretched on his straw he lays himself to sleep,
While, through the ragged roof and chinky wall,
Chill, o'er his slumbers, piles the drifty heap :-

Think on the dungeon's grim confine,
Where guilt and poor misfortune pine !
Guilt, erring man, relenting view!
But shall thy legal rage pursue
The wretch, already crushed low

By cruel fortune's undeserved blow?
Affliction's sons are brothers in distress,
A brother to relieve how exquisite the bliss !"
I heard no more; for Chanticleer

Shook off the powdery snow,
And hailed the morning with a cheer
A cottage-rousing crow.

But deep this truth impressed my mind

Through all his works abroad,
The heart benevolent and kind

T'he most resembles God.


The American Eagle.—NEAL.
There's a fierce gray BIRD, with a bending beak,
With an angry eye, and a startling shriek,
That nurses her brood where the cliff-flowers blow,
On the precipice-top, in perpetual snow;
That sits where the air is shrill and bleak,
On the splintered point of a shivered peak,
Bald-headed and stripped,-like a vulture torn
In wind and strife-her feathers worn,
And ruffled and stained, while loose and bright

Round her serpent-neck, that is writhing and bare,

Is a crimson collar of gleaming hair,
Like the crest of a warrior, thinned in fight,

And shorn, and bristling :-See her! where
She sits, in the glow of the sun-bright air,
With wing half poised, and talons bleeding,

And kindling eye, as if her prey

Had suddenly been snatched away,

While she was tearing it and fecding.Above the dark torrent, above the bright stream

The voice may be heard

Of the thunderer's bird, Calling out to her god in a clear, wild scream, As she mounts to his throne, and unfolds in his beam ; While her young are laid out in his rich, red blaze, And their winglets are fledged in his hottest rays.

Proud Bird of the cliff! where the barren yew springs, Where the sunshine stays, and the wind-harp sings, She sits, unapproachable, pluming her wings. She screams !-She's away over hill-top and flood, Over valley and rock, over mountain and wood, That Bird is abroad in the van of her brood !

"Tis the Bird of our banner, the free bird that braves, When the battle is there, all the wrath of the waves :

That dips her pinions in the sun's first gush;
Drinks his meridian blaze, his farewell flush ;
Sits amid stirring stars, and bends her beak,
Like the slipped falcon* when her piercing shriek
Tells that she stoops upon her cleaving wing,
To drink at some new victim's clear, red spring.
That monarch Bird ! she slumbers in the night
Upon the lofty air-peak's utmost height;
Or sleeps upon the wing, amid the ray
Of steady, cloudless, everlasting day :
Rides with the thunderer in his blazing march,
And bears his lightnings o'er yon boundless arch;
Soars wheeling through the storm, and screams away,
Where the young pinions of the morning play;
Broods with her arrows in the hurricane ;
Bears her green laurel o'er the starry plain,
And sails around the skies, and o'er the rolling deeps,
With still unwearied wing, and eye that never sleeps.

LESSON CLXXIV. Peply of Rob Roy Mac Gregor to Mr. Osbaldistone. -Scott.

You speak like a boy-like a boy, who thinks the old gnarled oak can be twisted as easily as the young sapling. Can I forget that I have been branded as an outlaw, stigmatized as a traitor, a price set on my head as if I had been a wolf, my family treated as the dam and cubs of the hillfox, whom all may torment, vilify, degrade, and insult';the very name which came to me from a long and noble line of martial åncestors, denounced, as if it were a spell to conjuret up the devil with ?

And they shall find that the name they have dared to proscribe that the name of Mac Gregor is a spell to raise the wild devil withal. They shall hear of my vengeance, that would scorn to listen to the story of my wrongs.—The miserable Highland drover, bankrupt, barefooted, stripped of all, dishonored and hunted down, because the avarice of others grasped at more than that poor all could pay, shall burst on them in an awful chānge. They that scoffed at the grovelling worm, and trod upon him, may cry and howl when they see the stoop of the flying and fiery-mouthed dragon. But why do I speak of all this ?-only ye may * Pron. fawʻkn.

+ Pron. kūn'jur.




opine it frets my patience to be hunted like an otter, or a seal, or a salmon upon the shallows, and that by my very friends and neighbors : and to have as many sword-cuts made, and pistols flashed at me, as I had this day in the ford of Avondow, would try a saint's temper, much more a Highlander's, who are not famous for that good gift, as you may have heard.—But one thing bides with me of what Nicol said. I'm vexed for the bairns—I'm vexed when I think of Robert and Hamish living their father's life-But let us say no more of this.- *

You must think hardly of us—and it is not natural that it should be otherwise. But remember, at least, we have not been unprovoked :- :-we are a rude and an ignorant, and it may be, a violent and passionate, but we are not a cruel people. The land might be at peace and in law, for us, did they allow us to enjoy the blessings of peaceful law. But we have been a persecuted people ; and if persecution maketh wise men mad, what must it do to men like us, living as our fathers did a thousand years since, and possessing scarce more lights than they did ? Can we view their bloody edicts against us—their hanging, heading, hounding, and hunting down an āncient and honorable name-as deserving better treatment than that which enemies give to enemies ?-Here I stand-have been in twenty frays, and never hurt man but when I was in hot blood -and yet, they would betray me and hang me, like a masterless dog, at the gate of any great man that has an ill will at me. You are

a kind-hearted and an honorable youth, and understand, doubtless, that which is due to the feelings of a man of honor.—But the heather that I have trod upon when living must bloom over me when I am dead-my heart would sink, and my arm would shrink and wither, like fern in the frost, were I to lose sight of my native hills; nor has the world a scene that would console me for the loss of the rocks and cairns, wild as they are, that you see around us. And Helen-what would become of her, were I to leave her, the subject of new insult and atrocity ?-or how could she bear to be removed from these scenes where the remembrance of her wrongs is aye sweetened by the recollection of her revenge ? I was once so hard put at by my great enemy, as I may well call him, that I was forced e'en to give way to the tide, and removed myself, and my people, and my family from our dwellings in our native land, and to withdraw for a time into Mac Cullum. more's country,—and Helen made a lament on our departure, as well as Mac Rimmon himself could have framed it ; and so piteously sad and wosome, that our hearts almost brake as we listened to her :-it was like the wailing of one for the mother that bore him and I would not have the same touch of the heart-break again, .... no, not to have all the lands that were ever owned by Mac Gregor.


Prophecy of the destruction of Babylon, and the return of

the Jews from their captivity in that city.


REVEALED TO ISAIAH, THE SON OF AMOTS. 2 Upon a lofty mountain erect the standard ;

Exalt the voice ; beckon with the hand;

That they may enter the gates of princes. 3 I have given a charge to my enrolled warriors;

I have even called my strong ones to execute my wrath ;

Those that exult in my greatness. 4 A sound of a multitude in the mountains, as of a great

people; A sound of the tumult of kingdoms, of nations gathered

together! Jehovah, God of Hosts, mustereth the host for the battle. 5 They come from a distant land, from the end of the

heavens ; Jehovah, and the instruments of his wrath, to destroy the

whole land. 6 Howl ye, for the day of Jehovah is at hand :

As a destruction from the Almighty shall it come. 7 Therefore shall all hands be slackened ;

heart of mortal shall melt; and they shall be

terrified : 8 Torments and pangs shall seize them;

And every


l'hey shall look one upon another with astonishment:

Their countenances shall be like flames of fire. 9 Behold, the day of Jehovah cometh, inex'orable ;

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