As showers from the clouds of summer,
Or tears from the eyelids, start,-

8. Who through long days of labor,
And nights devoid of ease,
Still heard in his soul the music
Of wonderful melodies.

9. Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
That follows after prayer.

10. Then read from the treasured volume
The poem of thy choice,
And lend to the rhyme of the poet
The beauty of thy voice;

11. And the night shall be filled with music,
And the cares that infest the day
Shall fold their tents like the Arabs,

And as silently steal away.

HENRY W. LONGFELLOW.

DEFINITIONS.-3. A kin', allied by nature. 4. Lay, a song. 5. Єor'ri dōrs, long passage-ways. 8. De void', destitute.

38.-DAVID'S LAMENT OVER ABSALOM.

NATHANIEL PARKER WILLIS was born at Portland, Maine, January 20, 1807. He was educated at Yale College, and while yet a student received a prize for his Scriptural Poems. He afterward established several periodicals, and contributed to many others. He wrote numerous works, both in prose and in poetry, including biographies, dramas, narratives, and romances. His style is graceful and vivacious, and his writings indicate that he was a thoughtful and close observer. He died January 21, 1867.

1. KING DAVID's limbs were weary. He had fled
From far Jerusalem, and now he stood,
With his faint people, for a little rest,

Upon the shore of Jordan. The light wind.
Of morn was stirring, and he bared his brow
To its refreshing breath; for he had worn
The mourner's covering, and had not felt
That he could see his people until now.

They gathered round him on the fresh green bank,
And spoke their kindly words; and as the sun
Rose up in heaven, he knelt among them there,
And bowed his head upon his hands, to pray.

2. Oh, when the heart is full,-when bitter thoughts
Come crowding thickly up for utterance,
And the poor common words of courtesy
Are such a very mockery,-how much
The bursting heart may pour itself in prayer!
He prayed for Israel; and his voice went up
Strongly and fervently. He prayed for those
Whose love had been his shield; and his deep tones
Grew tremulous. But, oh, for Absalom,-

For his estranged, misguided Absalom,

The proud, bright being who had burst away,

In all his princely beauty, to defy

The heart that cherished him,-for him he poured,
In agony that would not be controlled,
Strong supplication, and forgave him there,
Before his God, for his deep sinfulness.

3. The pall was settled. He who slept beneath Was straitened for the grave; and as the folds

Sunk to the still proportions, they betrayed
The matchless symmetry of Absalom.
His hair was yet unshorn, and silken curls
Were floating round the tassels as they swayed
To the admitted air, as glossy now

As when, in hours of gentle dalliance, bathing
The snowy fingers of Judea's girls.

4. The soldiers of the king trod to and fro,
Clad in the garb of battle; and their chief,
The mighty Joab, stood beside the bier
And gazed upon the dark pall steadfastly,
As if he feared the slumberer might stir.
A slow step startled him. He grasped his blade
As if a trumpet rang; but the bent form

5.

Of David entered, and he gave command,

In a low tone, to his few followers,

And left him with his dead.

The king stood still

Till the last echo died; then, throwing off
The sackcloth from his brow, and laying back
The pall from the still features of his child,
He bowed his head upon him, and broke forth
In the resistless eloquence of woe:

6. "Alas, my noble boy, that thou shouldst die,Thou, who wert made so beautifully fair! That death should settle in thy glorious eye,

And leave his stillness in this clustering hair. How could he mark thee for the silent tomb,My proud boy, Absalom!

7. "Cold is thy brow, my son, and I am chill, As to my bosom I have tried to press thee. How was I wont to feel my pulses thrill

Like a rich harp-string, yearning to caress thee, And hear thy sweet 'My father!' from these dumb And cold lips, Absalom !

8. "The grave hath won thee. I shall hear the gush Of music and the voices of the young,

And life shall pass me in the mantling blush,
And the dark tresses to the soft winds flung;
But thou no more with thy sweet voice shalt come
To meet me, Absalom!

9. "And, oh, when I am stricken, and my heart
Like a bruised reed is waiting to be broken,
How will its love for thee, as I depart,

Yearn for thine ear, to drink its last deep token!
It were so sweet, amid death's gathering gloom,
To see thee, Absalom!

10. "And now farewell! 'Tis hard to give thee up With death so like a gentle slumber on thee; And thy dark sin,-oh, I could drink the cup,

If from this woe its bitterness had won thee. May God have called thee like a wanderer home, My lost boy Absalom!"

11. He covered up his face, and bowed himself
A moment on his child; then, giving him
A look of melting tenderness, he clasped
His hands convulsively, as if in prayer ;

And, as if strength were given him of God,
He rose up calmly and composed the pall
Firmly and decently, and left him there,
As if his rest had been a breathing sleep.

DEFINITIONS.-2. Fer vent ly, earnestly. Sup pli că ́tion, en◄ treaty. 3. Pro pōr'tions, shape. Dăl'li ançe, sportiveness. 5. Sack'eloth, a coarse cloth or garment worn in mourning. 8. Măn'tling, rising and spreading. 11. Con vůl'sive ly, with great agitation. Com pōşed', placed in proper form.

NOTE.

For an account of the incidents on which the poem is founded, see 2 Samuel xviii.

39.-MARION'S MEN.

WILLIAM GILMORE SIMMS was born at Charleston, South Carolina, April 17, 1806. His early education was meager, owing partly to the poverty of the family, and partly to his own delicate health. He studied law, and was admitted to the bar at the age of twenty-one. He soon abandoned the law, however, and turned his attention to literary pursuits. As novelist, poet, essayist, critic, and reviewer, he gained considerable fame. A History of South Carolina, Life of Marion, The Partisan, Guy Rivers, The Border Beagles, and Mellichampe (from which the extract is taken) are some of his best-known works. His style is vigorous, his descriptions of natural scenery are often beautiful, and his plots are well conceived. He died at Charleston, June 11, 1870.

1. THE partisan had managed admirably, but he was now compelled to fly. The advantage of the ground was no longer with him. Tarleton, with his entire force, had now passed through the avenue, and had appeared in the open court in front. The necessity of rapid flight became apparent to Singleton, and the wild, lively notes of his trumpet were accordingly heard stirring the air at not more than rifle-distance from the gathering troop of Tarleton. Bitterly aroused by this seeming audacity,-an audacity to which Tarleton, waging a war hitherto of continual successes, had never been accustomed, his ire grew into fury.