EXERCISE 86.

The Roman Soldier;-Last days of Herculaneum.
ATHERSTONE.

PART I.

There was a man,

A Roman Soldier, for some daring deed
That trespassed on the laws, in dungeon low
Chained down. His was a noble spirit, rough,
5 But génerous, and bráve, and kind.

10

He had a son, it was a rosy boy,

A little faithful copy of his sire

In face and gesture. From infancy the child
Had been his father's solace and his care.

Every sport

The father shared and heightened. But at length
The rigorous law had grasped him, and condemned
To fetters and to darkness.

The captive's lot

15 He felt in all its bitterness:-the walls Of his deep dungeon answered many a sigh And heart-heaved groan. His tale was known, and

touched

His jailer with compassion;-and the boy,

20 Thenceforth a frequent visitor, beguiled

His father's lingering hours, and brought a balm
With his loved presence that in every wound
Dropt healing. But in this terriffic hōur

He was a poisoned àrrow in the breast

25 Where he had been a cure.

With earliest morn,

Of that first day of darkness and amaze,

He came. The iron door was closed,-for them
Never to open more! The day, the night,
30 Dragged slowly by; nor did they know the fate
Impending o'er the city. Well they heard
The pent-up thunders in the earth beneath,
And felt its giddy rocking; and the air

Grew hòt at length, and thick; but in his straw 35 The boy was sleeping: and the father hoped

The earthquake might pass by; nor would he wake From his sound rest the unfearing child, nor tell The dangers of their state. (。) On his low couch The fettered soldier sunk-and with deep awe 40 Listened the fearful sounds:—with upturned eye To the great gōds he breathed a prayer;—then strove To calm himself, and lose in sleep awhile

His useless terrors. But he could not sleep:His body burned with feverish heat;—his chains 45 Clanked loud although he moved not: deep in earth Groaned unimaginable thùnders:-sounds, Fearful and ominous, aróse and died,

Like the sad moanings of November's wind,
In the blank midnight. (..) Deepest horror chilled
50 His blood that burned before;-cold clammy sweats
Came o'er him:-(=) then anon a fiery thrill

Shot through his veins. Now on his couch he shrunk,
And shivered as in fear:-now upright leaped,

As though he heard the battle trumpet sound, 55 And longed to cope with death.

He slept at last,

A troubled, dreamy sleep.
Never to waken more!
But terrible his agony.

Well,-had he slept
His hours are few,

PART II.

Soon the storm

Burst forth: the lightnings glànced:—the air
Shook with the thunders. They awoke; they sprung
Amazed upon their feet. The dungeon glowed
5 A moment as in sunshine,—and was dark:-
Again a flood of white flame fills the cell;
Dying away upon the dazzled eye

In darkening, quivering tints, as stunning sound
Dies throbbing, ringing in the ear.

Silence, 10 And blackest darkness.-With intensest awe

The soldier's frame was filled; and many a thought
Of strange foreboding hurried through his mind,
As underneath he felt the fevered earth
Járring and lifting-and the massive walls

15 Heard harshly grate and stràin:-yet knew he not,
While evils undefined and yet to come

Glanced through his thoughts, what deep and cureless

wound

Fate had already given.-Where, man of wo! 20 Where wretched father! is thy boy? Thou callest His name in vain: he cannot answer thee.

Loudly the father called upon his child:-
No voice replied. Trembling and anxiously
He searched their couch of straw: with headlong haste
25 Trod round his stinted limits, and, low bent,

Groped darkling on the earth:-no child was there.
Again he called:-again, at farthest stretch

Of his accursed fetters,-till the blood

Seemed bursting from his ears, and from his eyes
30 Fire fláshed,-he strained with arm extended far,
And fingers widely spread, greedy to touch
Though but his idol's gàrment. Useless toil!
Yet still renewed:-still round and round he goes,
And strains, and snatches, and with dreadful cries
35 Calls on his boy. Mad frènzy fires him now:
He plants against the wall his fèet;—his chain
Grasps;-tugs with giant strength to force away
The deep-driven stàple;-yells and shrieks with rage.
And, like a desert lion in the snare

40 Raging to break his toils,-to and fro bounds.
But see! the ground is opening:—a blue light
Mounts, gently waving,-noiseless:-thin and cold
It seems, and like a ràinbow tint, not flăme;
But by its lustre, on the earth outstretched,
45 Behold the lifeless child!-his dress is singed,
And o'er his face serene a darken'd line
Points out the lightning's track.

The father saw,

And all his fury fled: a dead calm fell

50 That instant on him:-speechless, fixed he stood,
And with a look that never wandered, gazed
Intensely on the corse. Those laughing eyes
Were not yet closed, and round those ruby lips
The wonted smile returned.

55

Silent and pale

The father stands:- -no tear is in his eye:-
The thunders bellow-but he hears them nót:-

-

The ground lifts like a sea: he knows it nót:The strong walls grind and gape:-the vaulted roof 60 Takes shapes like bubble tossing in the wind:See! he looks up and smiles;-for death to him Is happiness. Yet could one last embrace Be given, 'twere still a sweeter thing to die.

It will be given. Look! how the rolling ground, 65 At every swell, nearer and still more near

Moves towards the father's outstretched arm his boy:Once he has touched his gàrment;-how his eye Lightens with love-and hope-and anxious fears! Ha! see! he has him now!—he clasps him round— 70 Kisses his face;-puts back the curling locks, That shaded his fine brow:-looks in his eyesGrasps in his own those little dimpled handsThen folds him to his breast, as he was wont To lie when sleeping-and resigned awaits 75 Undreaded death.

And death came soon, and swift,

And pangless.

The huge pile sunk down at once Into the opening earth. (..) Walls-arches-roof80 And deep foundation stones-all .. mingling .. fell!

EXERCISE 87.

The Orphan Boy.-MRS. OPIE.

1 Stay, lady stay, for mercy's sake,
And hear a helpless orphan's tale:
Ah, sure my looks must pity wake-
'Tis want that makes my cheek so pale!
Yet I was once a mother's pride,

And my brave father's hope and joy:
But in the Nile's proud fight he died-
And I am now an orphan boy!

2 Poor, foolish child! how pleased was I
When news of Nelson's victory came,
Along the crowded streets to fly,

To see the lighted windows flame!
To force me home my mother sought-

She could not bear to see my joy!
For with my father's life 'twas bought-
And made me a poor orphan boy!

3 The people's shouts were long and loud!
My mother, shuddering, closed her ears;
"Rejoice! rejoice!" still cried the crowd-
My mother answered with her tears!
"Oh! why do tears steal down your cheeks,"
Cried I, "while others shout for joy!"
She kissed me, and in accents weak,
She called me her poor orphan boy!

4 "What is an orphan boy?" I said;

When suddenly she gasped for breath,
And her eyes closed; I shrieked for aid:-
But, ah! her eyes were closed in death!
My hardships since I will not tell:

But now no more a parent's joy;
Ah! lady, I have learned too well
What 'tis to be an orphan boy.

EXERCISE 88.

Christian Consolation.-ANONYMOUS

[The annexed feeling, and beautiful lines are said to have been written by a young English lady, who had experienced much affliction.]

1 Jesus-I my cross have taken,
All to leave, and follow thee,
Naked, poor, despised, forsaken-

Thou, from hence, my all shalt be!

Perished every fond ambition

All I've sought, or hoped, or known,
Yet how rich is my condition-

God and heaven are all my own!

2 Go, then, earthly fame and treasure-
Come disaster, scorn, and pain;
In thy service, pain is pleasure,
With thy favor, loss is gain;

I have called thee Abba Father-
I have set my heart on thee;