LESSON LXXI. HYMN TO THE UNIVERSE. 1. Roll on, thou Sun! forever roll, Thou giant, rushing through the heaven, Thy golden wheels by angels driven; And cherubims, with star-dropt wing, Thou brightest emblem of their king! 2. Roll, lovely Earth! and still roll on, Behold thy tints of mount and stream, Swift-wheeling like a glorious dream. 3. Roll, Planets! on your dazzling road, Ye dauntless splendors of the skies! 4. Roll, Comets! and ye million Stars! Ye that through boundless nature roam; Ye monarchs, on your flame-winged cars, Tell us in what more glorious dome, What orb to which your pomps are dim, 1. LESSON LXXII. URSA MAJOR.*-WARE. When the sons of God Sent forth that shout of joy, which rung through heaven Joined the high chorus; from thy radiant orbs, Of splendors that enrich his firmament. 2. As thou art now, so wast thou then, the same. And beauty still is thine, as clear, as bright, As when the Almighty Former sent thee forth, To watch earth's northern beacon, and proclaim 3 Ye glorious lamps of God, he may have quenched To see your lights still burning, while their blaze * Ur'sa Ma'jor, (the great bear,) one of the northern constellations, which may be known by its seven stars forming the figure of a dipper. But hides the black wreck of extinguished realms, 4. Yet what is this, which to the astonished mind 5. 6. No less remote. From the profound of heaven, Take the glass And search the skies. The opening skies pour down Upon your gaze thick showers of sparkling fire, — Stars, crowded, thronged, in regions so remote, That their swift beams -the swiftest things that be Have traveled centuries on their flight to earth. And multitude of God's most infinite works! In other days, When death shall give the encumbered spirit wings, And share their state, and study and adore And beauty, by the hand of Power Divine, Ꮓ Shall thus roll on with ever fresh delight; LESSON LXXIII. CENTENNIAL ADDRESS. - STORY. 1. When we reflect on what has been, and is now, is i possible not to feel a profound sense of the responsibleness of this Republic to all future ages? What vast motives press upon us for lofty efforts! What brilliant prospects invite our enthusiasm! What solemn warnings at once demand our vigilance, and moderate our confidence! 2. The old world has already revealed to us, in its unsealed books, the beginning and end of all its own marvelous struggles in the cause of liberty. Greece, lovely Greece, "the land of scholars, and the nurse of arts," where sister republics, in fair processions, chanted the praises of liberty and the gods, where, and what is she? For two thousand years the oppressor has bound her to the earth. Her arts are no more. The last, sad relics of her temples, are but the barracks of a ruthless soldiery; the fragments of her columns and her palaces, are in the dust, yet beautiful in ruin. 3. Where are the republics of modern times, which clustered around immortal Italy? Venice and Genoa exist but in name. The Alps, indeed, look down upon the brave and peaceful Swiss in their native fastnesses; but the guarantee of their freedom is in their weakness, and not in their strength. The mountains are not easily crossed, and the valleys are not easily retained. 4. We stand the latest, and if we fail, probably the last experiment of self-government by the people. We have begun it under circumstances of the most auspicious nature. We are in the vigor of youth. Our growth has never been checked by the oppressions of tyranny. Our constitutions have never been enfeebled by the vices, or luxuries, of the old world. Such as we are, we have been from the beginning, simple, hardy, intelligent, accustomed to self-government and self-respect. 5. The Atlantic rolls between us and any formidable foe. Within our own territory, stretching through many degrees of latitude and longitude, we have the choice of many products, and many means of independence. The government is mild. The press is free. Religion is free. Knowledge reaches, or may reach, every home. What fairer prospect of success could be presented? What means more adequate to accomplish the sublime end? What more is necessary, than for the people to preserve what they themselves have created? 6. Already has the age caught the spirit of our institutions. It has already ascended the Andes, and snuffed the breezes of both oceans. It has infused itself into the lifeblood of Europe, and warmed the sunny plains of France and the lowlands of Holland. It has touched the philosophy of Germany and the north, and, moving onward to the south has opened to Greece the lessons of her better days. 7. Can it be, that America, under such circumstances, can betray herself? that she is to be added to the catalogue of republics, the inscription of whose ruin is, "They were, but they are not?" Forbid it, my countrymen; forbid it, Heaven! |