"Stay, stay with us,-rest, thou art weary and worn !" PSALM OF MARRIAGE.-PHOEBE CARY. TELL me not in idle jingle, "Marriage is an empty dream!" For the girl is dead that's single, And girls are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest ! Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Life is long, and youth is fleeting, And our hearts, though light and gay, In the world's broad field of battle, Trust no future, howe'er pleasant, Lives of married folks remind us Such example that another, Let us, then, be up and doing, Still contriving, still pursuing, And each one a husband get. COLD WATER.-SIGOURNEY. THE thirsty flowerets droop. The parching grass To thank the God of fountains? See the hart Pant for the water-brooks. The fevered sun Of Asia glitters on his leafy lair, As, fearful of the lion's wrath, he hastes, With timid footsteps through the whispering reeds; Quick leaping to the renovating stream, The copious draught his bounding veins inspires With joyful vigor. Patient o'er the sands, The burden-bearer of the desert clime, The camel, toileth. Faint with deadly thirst, And moved by powerful instinct, on he speeds, On his swift courser, o'er the burning wild No! to the gushing spring he flies, and deep Christian pilgrim, come! Thy brother of the Koran's broken creed Shall teach thee wisdom,—and, with courteous hand, And bids thee pledge her in the element Drink, and be whole, And purge the fever-poison from thy veins, And pass, in purity and peace, to taste ANTONY'S ADDRESS TO THE ROMANS ON THE DEATH OF CESAR.-SHAKSPEARE. FRIENDS, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Cæsar, not to praise him. The good is oft interréd with their bones; So let it be with Cæsar. The noble Brutus Hath told you Cæsar was ambitious: He was my friend, faithful and just to me: But Brutus says he was ambitious, And Brutus is an honorable man. He hath brought many captives home to Rome, When that the poor have cried, Cæsar hath wept: And Brutus is an honorable man. You all did see that on the Lupercal, I thrice presented him a kingly crown, Which he did thrice refuse was this ambition? Yet Brutus says he was ambitious, And, sure, he is an honorable man. I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, But yesterday the word of Cæsar might Have stood against the world: now lies he there, O masters! if I were disposed to stir I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong, Who, you To wrong But here's a parchment, with the seal of Cæsar— Let but the commons hear this testament, And, dying, mention it within their wills, If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this mantle: I remember The first time ever Cæsar put it on; 'Twas on a summer's evening in his tent― That day he overcame the Nervii. Look! In this place ran Cassius' dagger through: Through this the well-belovéd Brutus stabbed; For when the noble Cæsar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms, Quite vanquished him: then burst his mighty heart; And, in his mantle muffling up his face, Even at the base of Pompey's statua, Which all the while ran blood, great Cæsar fell. |