7. He smoked his pipe in the balmy air

Every night, when the sun went down;
And the soft wind played in his silvery hair,
Leaving its tenderest kisses there,

On the jolly old pedagogue's jolly old crown;
And feeling the kisses, he smiled, and said:
"'T was a glorious world down here below;
Why wait for happiness till we are dead?”
Said this jolly old pedagogue, long ago.

8. He sat at his door one midsummer night,
After the sun had sunk in the west,
And the lingering beams of golden light.
Made his kindly old face look warm and bright,
While the odorous night-winds whispered "Rest!"
Gently, gently, he bowed his head;

There were angels waiting for him, I know;
He was sure of his happiness living or dead,
This jolly old pedagogue, long ago!

CLXXXII.-THE DAWN.

FROM EVERETT.

JU'PI-TER: the largest planet of the solar system, and, next to Venus, the brightest.

Pleiades; (pro. ple'ya-dez,) a group of seven small stars in the constellation Taurus.

Ly'ra, An-drom'e-da; two brilliant constellations.

Ma'gi-ans; Persian worshipers of fire and the sun, as representatives of the Supreme Being.

1. I HAD occasion, a few weeks since, to take the early train from Providence to Boston, and for this purpose rose at two o'clock in the morning. Every thing around was wrapped in darkness and hushed in silence, broken only by what seemed at that hour the unearthly clank and rush of the train. It was a mild, serene, midsummer's night, the sky was without a cloud, the winds were whist. The moon, then in the last quarter, had just risen, and the stars shone with a spectral luster but little affected by her presence.

2. Jupiter, two hours high, was the herald of the day; the Pleiades, just above the horizon, shed their sweet infu

ence in the east; Lyra sparkled near the zenith; Andromeda veiled her newly-discovered glories from the naked eye in the south; the steady Pointers, far beneath the pole, looked meekly up from the depths of the north to their sovereign. Such was the glorious spectacle as I entered the train.

3. As we proceeded, the timid approa h of twilight became more perceptible; the intense blue of the sky began to soften; the smaller stars, like little children, went first to rest; the sister-beams of the Pleiades soon melted together; but the bright constellations of the west and north remained unchanged. Steadily the wondrous transfiguration went on. Hands of angels, hidden from mortal eyes, shifted the scenery of the heavens; the glories of the night dissolved into the glories of the dawn.

4. The blue sky now turned more softly gray; the great watch-stars shut up their holy eyes; the cast began to kindle. Faint streaks of purple soon blushed along the sky; the whole celestial concave was filled with the inflowing tides of the morning light, which came pouring down from above in one great ocean of radiance; till at length, as we reached the Blue Hills, a flash of purple fire blazed out from above the horizon, and turned the dewy tear-drops of flower and leaf into rubies and diamonds. In a few seconds, the everlasting gates of the morning were thrown wide open, and the lord of day, arrayed in glories too severe for the gaze of man, began his state.

5. I do not wonder at the superstition of the ancient Magians, who in the morning of the world went up to the hill-tops of Central Asia, and, ignorant of the true God, adored the most glorious work of his hand. But I am filled with amazement, when I am told, that, in this enlightened. age and in the heart of the Christian world, there are persons who can witness this daily manifestation of the power and wisdom of the Creator, and yet say in their hearts, “There is no God."

BUT yonder comes the powerful king of day,
Rejoicing in the east. The lessening cloud,
The kindled azure, and the mountain's brow

Illumed with fluid gold, his near approach
Betoken glad. Lo! now apparent all,

Aslant the dew-bright earth and colored air,
He looks in boundless majesty abroad;

And sheds the shining day, that burnished plays
On rocks, and hills, and towers, and wandering streams,
High-gleaming from afar. Prime cheerer, light!
Of all material beings first, and best!

Efflux divine! Nature's resplendent robe!
Without whose vesting, beauty all were wrapt
In unessential gloom; and thou, O sun!
Soul of surrounding worlds, in whom best seen
Shines out thy Maker, may I sing of thee?
THOMSON.

CLXXXIII.-CALLING THE ROLL.
FROM SHEPHERD.

1. "CORPORAL GREEN!" the orderly cried;
"Here!" was the answer, loud and clear,
From the lips of a soldier standing near;
And "here!" was the word the next replied.

2. There they stood in the failing light,

These men of battle, with grave, dark looks,
As plain to be read as open books,

While slowly gathered the shades of night.
The fern on the slope was splashed with blood,
And down in the corn, where the poppies grew,
Were redder stains than the poppies knew;
And crimson-dyed was the river's flood.

3. For the foe had crossed from the other side,

That day, in the face of a murderous fire
That swept them down in its terrible tire;
And their life-blood went to color the tide.
"Herbert Cline!" At the call there came

Two stalwart soldiers into the line,
Bearing between them Herbert Cline,
Wounded and bleeding, to answer his name.

4. "Ezra Kerr!" and a voice said "here!"

"Hiram Kerr!" but no man replied:

They were brothers, these two; the sad wind sighed, And a shudder crept through the corn-field near. "Ephraim Deanc!"-then a soldier spoke:

"Deane carried our regiment's colors," he said, "When our ensign was shot; I left him dead, Just after the enemy twavered and broke.

5. "Close to the roadside his body lies;

I paused a moment, and gave him to drink;
He murmured his mother's name, I think;
And death came with it and closed his eyes.'
'Twas a victory-yes; but it cost us dear;

For that company's roll, when called at night,
Of a hundred men who went into the fight,
Numbered but twenty that answered “here!”

CLXXXIV.-THE DYING SOLDIER.

1. THE shadows of evening are thickening. Twilight closes, and the thin mists are rising in the valley.

The last charging squadron yet thunders in the distance; but it presses only on the foiled and scattered foe. The fight is over! And those who rode foremost in its fields at morning, where are they now? On the bank of yon little stream, there lies a knight, his life-blood ebbing faster than its tide. His shield is rent, and his lance is broken. Soldier, why faintest thou? The blood that swells from that deep wound will answer.

2. It was this morning that the sun rose bright upon his hopes; it sets upon his grave. This day he led the foremost rank of spears, that had crossed the foe's dark line; then death shouted in the onset! It was the last blow that reached him. He has conquered, though he shall not triumph in the victory. His breast-plate is dinted.

His helmet has the traces of well-dealt blows. The scarf on his breast! she would shrink but to touch it now, who placed it there.

3. Look on yon crimsoned field that seems to mock the purple clouds above it! Prostrate they lie, drenched in

their dark red pool; thy friends and enemies; the dead and dying; the veteran, with the stripling of a day; the nameless trooper, and the leader of a hundred hosts. Friend lies by friend; the steed, with his rider; and foes, linked in their long embrace their first and last-the gripe of death. Far o'er the field they lie, a gorgeous prey to ruin! White plume and steel *morion! saber and yataghan! crescent and cross! rich vest and bright corslet! They came to the fight as if they came to a feasting. Glorious and glittering, even in death, each shining warrior lies!

4. His last glance still seeks that banner! The cry that shall never be repeated, cheers on its last charge. Oh, but for strength to reach the field once more! to die in the foe's front! Peace, dreamer! Thy place in the close rank is filled; and yet, another waits for his who holds it. Soldier! she who sped thee on thy course to-day, shall seek thee, with her blue eyes, in the conquering ranks to-morrow; but she shall seek thee in vain! Proud heads shall bow for thee. Bright eyes shall weep for thee.

5. Heath! thou wilt be the soldier's pillow! Moon, let thy cold light, this night, fall upon him! But, morning, thy soft dews shall tempt him not! The soldier must wake no more. He is dead! The cross of a knight is on his breast his lips are pressed to his lady's token! farewell!

Soldier,

CLXXXV.-THE PICKET.

1. "ALL quiet along the Potomac," they say,
"Except, now and then, a stray *picket
Is shot, as he walks on his beat to and fro,
By a rifleman hid in the thicket,"

2. 'Tis nothing-a private or two, now and then,
Will not count in the news of the battle;
Not an officer lost, only one of the men,
Moaning out, all alone, the death rattle.

3. "All quiet along the Potomac to-night,"

Where the soldiers lie peacefully dreaming;
Their tents, in the rays of the clear autumn moon,
Or the light of the watch-fires, are gleaming.