But Abram hath a wife and seven sons;
And yet we share the harvest sheaves alike.
He surely needeth more for life than I:
I will arise, and gird myself, and go
Down to the field, and add to his from mine."

III.

So he arose, and girded up his loins,
And went out softly to the level field.

The moon shone out from dusky bars of clouds,
The trees stood black against the cold blue sky,
The branches waved and whispered in the wind.
So Zimri, guided by the shifting light,

Went down the mountain-path, and found the field,
Took from his store of sheaves a generous third,
And bore them gladly to his brother's heap;
And then went back to sleep, and happy dreams.

IV.

Now, that same night, as Abram lay in bed,
Thinking upon his blissful state in life,
He thought upon his brother Zimri's lot,
And said, "He dwells within his house alone;
He goeth forth to toil with few to help;

He goeth home at night to a cold house,

And hath few other friends but me and mine," (For these two tilled the happy vale alone): "While I, whom Heaven hath very greatly blessed, Dwell happy with my wife and seven sons,

Who aid me in my toil, and make it light.
And yet we share the harvest sheaves alike.
This surely is not pleasing unto God:

I will arise and gird myself, and go

Out to the field, and borrow from my store,
And add unto my brother Zimri's pile."

V.

So he arose, and girded up his loins,

And went down softly to the level field.

The moon shone out from silver bars of clouds,
The trees stood black against the starry sky,

The dark leaves waved and whispered in the breeze.
So Abram, guided by the doubtful light,

Passed down the mountain-path, and found the field,
Took from his store of sheaves a generous third,
And added them unto his brother's heap;
Then he went back to sleep, and happy dreams.

VI.

So the next morning with the early sun

The brothers rose, and went out to their toil.
And when they came to see the heavy sheaves,
Each wondered in his heart to find his heap,
Though he had given a third, was still the same.

VII.

Now, the next night went Zimri to the field,
Took from his store of sheaves a generous share,
And placed them on his brother Abram's heap,

And then lay down behind his pile to watch.
The moon looked out from bars of silvery cloud,
The cedars stood up black against the sky,
The olive-branches whispered in the wind.

VIII.

Then Abram came down softly from his home,
And, looking to the right and left, went on,
Took from his ample store a generous third,
And laid it on his brother Zimri's pile.

Then Zimri rose, and caught him in his arms,
And wept upon his neck, and kissed his cheek:
And Abram saw the whole, and could not speak;
Neither could Zimri. So they walked along

Back to their homes, and thanked their God in prayer
That he had bound them in such loving bands.

LANGUAGE STUDY.

1. Write the analysis of: dusky; starry; blissful; doubtful. What two words in stanza II. are derived from lone?

III. In stanza I., point out an example of personification. (See Definition 4.)

Observe in stanza III., that the appearance of the landscape, on the night when Zimri went out," is described by the poet as similar to that on the night when Abram went out (stanza V.); and yet the author makes variations in details. Thus,

"The moon shone out from dusky bars of clouds,"

compared with

"The moon shone out from silver bars of clouds."

Point out other resembling passages.

Write the substance of this beautiful story in your own words.

49.-Going up in a Balloon.

ā-ē'ri-al, airy, lofty.

a'er-o-naut, air navigator.

fōre-shôrt ́ened, shortened as seen obliquely.

PREPARATORY NOTES.

(1) "for better, for worse:" a phrase from the Episcopal marriage service. — (3) Vauxhall Gardens: a park and pleasure-resort in London.- (8) Father of Rivers: not, as might be supposed, the Mississippi, but the Thames, which the older English poets were fond of personifying as "Father Thames."

1. Let us ascend into the sky. Taking balloons as they are, "for better, for worse," let us for once have an aërial flight.

2. The first thing you naturally expect is some extraordinary sensation, which takes away your breath for a time, in springing high up into the air. But no such matter occurs. The extraordinary thing is, that you experience no sensation at all, so far as motion is concerned.

3. A very amusing illustration of this is given in a letter published by a well-known author, shortly after his ascent. "I do not despise you," says he, "for talking about a balloon going up; for it is an error which you share in common with some millions of our fellowcreatures, and I, in the days of my ignorance, thought with the rest of you. I know better now. The fact is, we do not go up at all; but at about five minutes past

six, on that famous Friday evening, Vauxhall Gardens, with all the people in them, went down!"

4. Feeling nothing of the ascending motion, the first impression that takes possession of you, in "going up" in a balloon, is the quietude, the silence, that grows more and more complete. The restless heaving to and fro of the huge inflated sphere above your head (to say nothing of the noise of the crowd), the flapping of ropes, the rustling of silk, and the creaking of the basket-work of the car, - all have ceased. There is a total cessation of all atmospheric resistance. You sit in a silence which becomes more perfect every second. After the bustle of many moving objects, you stare before you into blank air.

5. So much for what you first feel; and now, what is the thing you first do? In this case we all do the same thing: we look over the side of the car. We do this very cautiously, keeping a firm seat; and then, holding on by the edge, we carefully protrude the peak of our traveling-cap, and then the tip of the nose, over the edge of the car, upon which we rest our mouth.

6. Every thing below is seen in so new a form, so flat, compressed, and so simultaneously, so much toomuch-at-a-time, — that the first look is hardly so satisfactory as could be desired. But soon we thrust the chin fairly over the edge, and take a good stare downward, and this repays us much better. Objects appear under very novel circumstances from this vertical position. They are stunted and foreshortened, and