Like mountains the billows tremendously swell; And the death-angel-flaps his broad wing o'er the wave!" In the last stanza the voice falls from the loud and rapid movements of excitement to the slow and conversational pitch. In the two last lines it descends to the very slow and grave tones, while on the word "spirits" it falls to a whisper, and the word "flaps" is rendered in a tremulous half-whisper. A full rhetorical pause is necessary before both of these words to give them proper effect. "NO." BY ELIZA COOK. Would you learn—the bravest thing- Would you seek to emulate Of the moral,-just,—and great, Would you lose much bitter care Bravely speak out-when-and where- Learn to speak this little word— In its proper place ; Let no timid doubt be heard, Clothed with skeptic grace; Let thy lips without disguise- Though a thousand-dulcet lies Keep hovering about. For be sure-our hearts-would lose Future years-of woe If our courage-could refuse The present hour-with-"No." When temptation's form-would lead When she tunes her hollow reed- When she offers bribe-and smile, There is naught-but shining guile In the gifts she deals; Then, oh! then let courage rise Show that ye are brave—as wise, And firmly answer-"No." Hearts-that are too often given Hearts-that-like bought slaves—are driven— Yet who stand—with wavering breast When companions seek-to taunt When the loud laugh-fain would daunt Oh! be sure-ye'll never meet But strike the coward-to your feet Many a breast-has rued the day When a luckless fate was wrought When it should be spoken; Resolution-is deferred, Vows to virtue-broken: More of courage is required This one word-to say Than to stand-where shots are fired In the battle fray. Use it fitly-and ye'll see Many a lot below May be schooled—and nobly ruled By power-to utter-"No." THE RED HUNTERS, OR PRAIRIE ON FIRE. M. V. FULLER. The swift-red hunters—came; Their spears were of glist'ning silver, Oh, what a strife-was there! What a shouting!—what a threat ning cry !— Their garments-over the glowing wheels They flaunted their purple banners (Poor things!-th't from those golden wheels Close, and crashing together, The envious chariots--rolled; While anon, before his fellows,- Their-hot breath,-thick and lowering, And around-their frowning foreheads, "The bisons! ho, the bisons!" They cried-and answered back(Poor herds of frightened creatures With such hunters-on their track!) With a weary,-lumbering swiftness Driven by those hunters-from their sleep Some face-their foe-with anguish, Dilating their brute eyes ; The spears of silver strike them low,- And leave the withered night. The echo is a re-percussion or reflected sound, and is sometimes repeated several times, always growing fainter in each reverberation. When giving imitations of this in recitations, it is simply necessary, after speaking the word to be echoed, to pause long enough for the supposed sound to return from a distance; then utter it in a softer tone of voice, making it softer and less distinct in each repetition. "Gitche Man'ito, the mighty!' Than the echo of his crying, Than the echo of the woodlands, [Echo.] Minnehaha!—Minnehaha!” BUGLE SONG. TENNYSON. The splendor falls on castle-walls, The long light shakes across the lakes, Blow, bugle, blow; set the wild echoes flying: [Echo.] Blow, bugle, blow. [Echo-] Blow, bugle, blow; answer, echoes, dying,-dying, dying. dying, dying, dying. Oh, hark! Oh, hear! how thin—and clear, And thinner,-clearer, farther going! Oh! sweet and far, from cliff and scar, Blow; let us hear the purple glens replying: BLOW, bugle;-answer, echoes, dying,—dying, dying. O love-they die-in yon rich sky, Blow, bugle,--blow; set the wild echoes flying, [Echo as above.] And answer,-echoes, answer, dying,-dying,-dying. ECHO SONG. Echo in the hollow' glen, Wake ye from your stilly sleep; Clear and deep. (Echo.] Clear and deep. Warble for us, Echo, pray! [Echo.] Warble for us, Echo, pray! Tell-tale spirit, listen! [Echo.] Listen! Now our morning song repeat; [Echo.] Now our morning song repeat. THE LONG EXPECTED: TRUE LOVE NEVER LOST. MASSEY. Oh! many and many a day-before we met And I was the anointed-chosen one Of all the world—to crown—her queenly brows— I saw not-(with mine eyes-so full of tears,) Thine eyes-oped with their rainy lights-and laughters, |