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EXERCISE 125.

The Dead Sea.-CROLY.

1 The wind blows chill across those gloomy waves;-
Oh! how unlike the green and dancing main!
The surge
is foul, as if it rolled o'er graves;

Stranger, here lie the cities of the plain.

2 Yes, on that plain, by wild waves covered now,
Rose palace once, and sparkling pinnacle;
On pomp and spectacle beamed morning's glow,
On pomp and festival the twilight fell.

3 Lovely and splendid all, but Sodom's soul

Was stained with blood, and pride, and perjury; Long warned, long spared, till her whole heart was foul, And fiery vengeance on its clouds came nigh.

4 And still she mocked, and danced, and, taunting spoke Her sportive blasphemies against the Throne;

It came!-the thunder on her slumber broke:

God spake the word of wrath!-Her dream was done

5 Yet, in her final night, amid her stood

Immortal messengers; and pausing Heaven, Pleaded with man, but she was quite imbued,

Her last hour waned, she scorned to be forgiven!

6 'Twas done!--Down pour'd at once the sulph'rous show'r Down stooped, in flame, the heaven's red canopy. Oh! for the arm of God, in that fierce hour!—

'T was vain, nor help of God or man was nigh.

7 They rush, they bound, they howl, the men of sin;Still stooped the cloud, still burst the thicker blaze; The earthquake heaved!—Then sank the hideous din! Yon wave of darkness o'er their ashes strays.

8 PARIS! thy soul is deeper dyed with blood,

And long, and blasphemous, has been thy day,
And, PARIS! it were well for thee that flood,
Or fire, could cleanse thy damning stains away.

EXERCISE 126.

New Missionary Hymn.

S. F. SMITH. Theological Student, Andover.
1 Yes, my native land, I love thee,
All thy scenes I love them well,
Friends, connexions, happy country!
Can I bid you all farewell?
Can I leave you-

Far in heathen lands to dwell?

2 Home! thy joys are passing lovely;
Joys no stranger-heart can tell!
Happy home! indeed I love thee!
Can I-can I say-Farewell?
Can I leave thee-

Far in heathen lands to dwell?

3 Scenes of sacred peace and pleasure, Holy days and Sabbath bell, Richest, brightest, sweetest treasure! Can I say a last farewell?

Can I leave you

Far in heathen lands to dwell?

4 Yes! I hasten from you gladly,

From the scenes I loved so well!
Far away, ye billows, bear me;
Lovely native land, farewell!
Pleased I leave thee-

Far in heathen lands to dwell.

5 In the deserts let me labor,

On the mountains let me tell,

How he died-the blessed Saviour-
To redeem a world from hell!
Let me hasten,

Far in heathen lands to dwell.

6 Bear me on, thou restless ocean; Let the winds the canvass swellheart with warm emotion, While I go far hence to dwell.

Heaves my

Glad I bid thee,

Native land!-FAREWELL-FAREWELL!

APPENDIX.

THE reader, that he may understand the design of this Appendix, is requested to turn back to page 52, and review with care all the remarks that are made under the head of Quantity. Few persons are aware to what extent the power of any tolerable voice may be increased, by the habit of a slow, clear, distinct enunciation. To acquire this habit, the pupil must accustom himself, by efforts often repeated, to fill, and swel. and prolong the open vowels. This may be done by uttering the simple elementary sounds, a, e, &c., with great stress. But as vocal sounds are intended to convey thoughts, and these single elements signify nothing, of themselves, the pupil is reluctant to exert his voice upon them, with sufficient strength to answer the purpose. The different sounds of a, as heard in fate, far, war, he can utter, but to do it with his voice at full stretch is unnatural; it seems to him more like barking, or bleating, than like elocution. Whereas, let the sound to be made, be part of a word, and that word part of a sentence,—meaning something that ought to be uttered in a loud, full note, and the difficulty is surmounted with comparative ease.

To accomplish this, is the purpose of the following examples. In pronouncing them, the reader will remember that they are generally taken from the language of military command; and from other cases in which the persons addressed are supposed to be at some distance from the speaker. The words printed in Italic, contain the vowel sounds on which the stress and quantity are to be laid. Imagine yourself to be speaking these words to those who are five or ten rods from you, and you will unavoidably acquire the habit of dwelling on the vowel with a slow, strong note.

The sounds most favorable to the object of this exercise are those of

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The selections are arranged promiscuously, several of the vowel sounds sometimes occurring in the same example.

EXAMPLES.

1. Then take defiance, death, and mortal war.
2. Haste!-to his ear the glad report convey.
3. Stretch to the race!—Away!—Awày!
4. Let what I will, be fàte.

5. O Solyman!-regardless chief!-Awake.
6. Come, mighty Monarch, haste!—the fortress gain
7. Wherefore, O Warriors! make your promise vain?
8. Conquest awaits you. Seize the glorious prize.
9. "Haste! Let us storm the gates," he said, and flew.
10. The cry was-" Tidings! from the host,-

"Of weight.-A messenger comes post.

11. Arm, valiant chief!-For fight prepare.

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12. “To àrms!—To àrms!”—A thousand voices cried.
13. "Forbèar! The field is mine," he cries.
14. "Who dares to fly from yonder swords"—he cries,
"Who dares to tremble, by this weapon dies."
15. Stand Bayard!-Stand!-the steed obeyed.
16. To arms! The foemen storm the wall.

17. Wàr! Wàr!-aloud with general voice they cry.
18. Haste! Pass the seas. Thy flying sails employ;
Fly hence! Begone!

19. "T is death I sèek; but ere I yield to fate,

I trust to crush thee with my falling weight.

20. Him by his arms Rambaldo knows, and cries,

"What seek'st thou hère, or whither wouldst thou bend ?"

21. O cruel Tancred!-cèase!—at last relènt.
22. "Speed Malise! speed!"-he loudly cried,
"The mustering place is Lanrick mead;
Speed forth the signal, Norman! Speed!"
23. Peace! Peace!-To other than to me,
Thy words were èvil
augury.

24 Warriors attend! survey this bloody sword. 25 Woe to the traitor!-woe!

26. On Bertram, then, he laid his hand,

"Should every fiend to whom thou 'rt sold
Rise in thine aid, I keep my hold.

Arouse there! Ho!-take spear and sword;
Attack the murderer of your lord."

27. "Ye Warriors brave!-attend my words," he said. 28. With monarch's voice, " Go!—and repènt," he cried. 99. Rise! Rise!-ye Citizens, your gates defend;

Behold the foe at hand.

30. "Return ye Warriors!"-thus aloud he cried.
31. Fly Argillan! Behold the morning nigh
32. "What bring'st thou hère?"—she cried.

"Lo war and death I bring," the chief replied. 33. Oh! burst the bridge, and me alone expose. 34. Still, still he breathes; Our Tancred still survives. 35. Hènce! home, you idle creatures!-get you home. You blocks, you stones,-you worse than senseless things.

36. Wo to the wretch who fails to rear,

At this dread sign, his ready spear.

37. "Up! comrades up!-in Rokeby's halls,
Ne'er be it said our courage falls."

38. Back! on your lives, ye menial pack.
39. Boldly she spake, "Soldiers attend!
My father was the soldier's friend."
40. "Revenge!-Revenge!"—the Saxons cried.
41. Malcolm!-come forth!-and forth he came.
12. "On! On!"-was still his stern exclaim,
"Confront the battery's jaws of flame!
Rush on the level gun!

My steel-clad Cuirassiers!—advànce!
Each Hen, forward!—with his lance!

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