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And waves the sea-fan o'er his scattered limbs.
Adventurous still, he spreads his wings on high,
Piercing the blue fields in his airy car,

And looks with conscious pride upon the scene,
A peopled universe beneath him spread.
Beckoned by science o'er earth's bounds remote,
He spreads discovery's sail, nor stays his course,
Where the ice mountains bar the Arctic seas.
He bends o'er Asia's desolate steppes his way,
Where, like a mountain seen through the far mist,
In silent majesty the elephant stands.

O'er Afric's burning sands, with resolute heart,
Slow with the toiling caravan he toils,

And bows, while the sirocco sweeps in wrath;
Or cherishes at night his blazing fire,
While the dread lion pours on his roused ear
The prolonged thunders of his fearful roar.
He floats on Oronoco's tide his bark,
And the fierce flashing of the jaguar's eyes
Marks through the vista of the leafy wood;
Or on the shore, the hideous crocodile,
Intent on prey, with ravenous jaws distent:
Or by Superior's waves, Manito's realms,
With the red man he tracks the prairies drear,
To mark the characters of savage life.
Whate'er of beautiful in nature is,
Or of sublime, he goes abroad to scan.
O'er Etna's crater, with firm eye, he bends,
And views the hell of elements beneath,
Fearless of harm. Where the white Alps arise,
He makes his footing in the iceberg's steep,
And hears the roaring avalanche, which spreads
Thunders in air, and horror through the vale.
Where pours Niagara his wealth of waves,
Upwards his rapt and wondering gaze he casts,
And reads its glowing poetry sublime,
Written on earth and heaven, by God's own hand!

How in his proud perfections man is great!
The story of all time, since earth arose,
And gay the morning stars sang joy, is his.
Lo! at his call they throng, whose names outlive
Their votive marbles and their perished dust,
The worthies of old times, a gallant host-
The living hold communion with the dead!

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The dead! the good and great of earth ne'er die-
Their bodies go down in the quiet dust,

But their great spirits survive their glorious deeds,
And high imaginings, throughout all time.
They visit earth, not with their grave-clothes on,
And loaded with a cumbrous mass of flesh,

But as ideal beings, from heaven sent down,
To hold high converse with congenial minds!

Mind is the godlike attribute of man!
Lo! at the sculptor's quick Ithuriel touch,
Forth from the quarry leaps the dormant stone,
Instinct with life, and mocks the gazer's eye.
Again at his heart-strings Laocoon feels
The tugging agony-again on earth,
In manly beauty young Apollo breathes,
While dreadful joy dilates his restless eye-
Venus for earth again leaves Jove's own mount,
And fills the fragrant atmosphere with bliss.
Oh! for a spark of his, the fire-thief's spoil,
To kindle life in yon expressive stone,
And prove love is not all a poet's dream!

groupe,

Mind is the godlike attribute of man!
Lo! as the gifted artist waves his wand,
From the gay canvass starts the various
Splendid illusion, of remembered men,
The beings, who have sought their rest in earth.
Waked by his skill, now other scenes arise,
Nature in all its gay varieties,

Earth in its beauty, ocean in its storms,
Day's brilliant glories, and night's soft repose,
Cheerful with all its myriads of stars.

On the groupe canvass, animate with life,
The mind's creation in its inspired mood,

. Who can gaze long, whose quick breath doth not fail, Whose heart grow faint with feeling's pure excess!

Mind is the godlike attribute of man!
E'en as the prophet in the arid wild

Smote the dull rock, which gave its waters forth,
And awe-struck Israel gazed upon the sight-
Thus by high reason waked, the mind instinct,
Pours its rich sparkling streams upon the earth,
And the world looks with holy wonder on.

With tongue inspired, and animated mien,
The eloquent man subdues each stubborn heart,
Excites the cold, the ardent soul restrains,
Calls from the grave the smile, the gay the tear,
Wakes patriot fervours in each noble breast,
And wins the hushed and list'ning multitude.
Leaving all earth and earthly things behind,
Through the bright zodiac of lofty thoughts,
The poet ranges, with blest lyre in hand,
Attuned to harmony-some heavenly power
Inspires the music of his ravishing lay,

1423

E'en as the sun who rose from ocean's arms,
Woke pleasant sounds from Memnon's speaking stone!

J. R. S.

END OF THE SECOND VOLUME.

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