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Happier thou mayst be, worthier canst | Some such resemblances, methinks, I find Of our last evening's talk in this thy dream,

not be:

Taste this, and be henceforth among the


Thyself a goddess; not to earth confined,
But sometimes in the air, as we, sometimes
Ascend to Heaven, by merit thine, and


What life the gods live there, and such live thou!'

So saying he drew nigh, and to me held,Even to my mouth,-of that same fruit held part

Which he had plucked: the pleasant savoury smell

So quickened appetite, that I, methought, Could not but taste. Forthwith up to the clouds

With him I flew, and underneath beheld The earth outstretched immense,-a prospect wide

And various, wondering at my flight and change

To this high exaltation: suddenly

My guide was gone; and I, methought,
sunk down,

And fell asleep: but, O how glad I waked
To find this but a dream!" Thus Eve

her night
Related, and thus Adam answered sad:


"Best image of myself, and dearer half! | The trouble of thy thoughts this night in sleep

Affects me equally; nor can I like

This uncouth dream,-of evil sprung, I fear:
Yet evil whence? in thee can harbour
Created pure.
But know, that in the soul
Are many lesser faculties, that serve
Reason as chief; among these Fancy next
Her office holds; of all external things,
Which the five watchful senses represent,
She forms imaginations, airy shapes,
Which Reason joining, or disjoining,


But with addition strange; yet be not

Evil into the mind of God or Man
May come and go, so unapproved; and leave
No spot or blame behind: which gives me

That what in sleep thou didst abhor to

Waking thou never wilt consent to do.
Be not disheartened then; nor cloud those

That wont to be more cheerful and serene
Than when fair Morning first smiles on
the world:

And let us to our fresh employments rise,
Among the groves, the fountains, and the


That open now their choicest bosomed smells,

Reserved from night, and kept for thee in store.

So cheered he his fair spouse, and she was cheered;

But silently a gentle tear let fall

From either eye, and wiped them with her

Two other precious drops, that ready stood,
Each in their crystal sluice, he ere they


Kissed, as the gracious signs of sweet re


And pious awe, that feared to have offended.

So all was cleared, and to the field they

But first, from under shady arborous roof
Soon as they forth were come to open sight
Of day-spring, and the Sun, who, scarce

With wheels yet hovering o'er the ocean-

Shot parallel to the earth his dewy ray,
Discovering in wide landskip all the east
Of Paradise and Eden's happy plains,

All what we affirm, or what deny, and Lowly they bowed adoring; and began call

Our knowledge or opinion; then retires
Into her private cell, when nature rests.
Oft in her absence mimic Fancy wakes
To imitate her; but, misjoining shapes,
Wild work produces oft, and most in

Ill matching words and deeds long past or

Their orisons, each morning duly paid
In various style: for neither various style
Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise
Their Maker, in fit strains pronounced, or


Unmeditated; such prompt eloquence
Flowed from their lips, in prose or numer-

ous verse;

More tunable than needed lute or harp

To add more sweetness;-and they thus began:



These are thy glorious works, Parent of good!

Almighty! Thine this universal frame, Thus wondrous fair; thyself how wondrous then!

"Air, and ye elements! the eldest birth Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion run Perpetual circle, multiform, and mix And nourish all things; let your ceaseless change

Vary to our great Maker still new praise. "Ye mists and exhalations! that now


From hill or steaming lake, dusky or gray,

Unspeakable! who sitt'st above these Till the Sun paint your fleecy skirts with


To us invisible, or dimly seen

In these thy lowest works; yet these declare


In honour to the world's great Author rise; Whether to deck with clouds the uncoloured sky,

Thy goodness beyond thought, and power Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showdivine.


"Speak, ye who best can tell, ye sons of Rising or falling still advance his praise.


Angels for ye behold him, and with songs And choral symphonies, day without night, Circle his throne rejoicing:--ye in Heaven; On Earth join all ye creatures to extol Him first, him last, him midst, and without end!

"His praise, ye winds! that from four quarters blow,

Breathe soft or loud; and wave your tops, ye pines,

With every plant, in sign of worship, wave. "Fountains! and ye that warble, as ye flow,

"Fairest of stars! last in the train of Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his night,

If better thou belong not to the dawn,Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smil ing Morn

With thy bright circlet,- praise him in thy sphere,

While day arises, that sweet hour of prime. "Thou Sun! of this great world both eye and soul,


"Join voices, all ye living souls! Ye birds, | That singing up to Heaven-gate ascend, Bear on your wings, and in your notes, his praise.

"Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk

The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep! Witness if I be silent, morn or even,

Acknowledge him thy greater; sound his To hill or valley, fountain or fresh shade, praise

In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st,

And when high noon hast gained, and when thou fall'st.

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Made vocal by my song, and taught his


Hail, universal Lord! be bounteous still

To give us only good; and, if the night

Moon! that now meet'st the orient Have gathered aught of evil, or concealed, sun, now fliest,

With the fixed stars,-fixed in their orb that flies;

Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark!" So prayed they innocent, and to their thoughts

And ye five other wandering fires! that Firm peace recovered soon, and wonted


In mystic dance, not without song, resound His praise, who out of darkness called up light.


On to their morning's rural work they haste,

Among sweet dews and flowers.

MILTON'S Paradise Lost.

BEAUTIFUL are the heralds

That stand at Nature's door, Crying, "O traveller, enter in, And taste the Master's store!" One or the other always crying

In the voice of the summer hours, In the thunder of the winter storm,


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So some kneel down and enter
With reverent step and slow;
And calm airs fraught with precious scent
Breathe round them as they go :
Gently they pass 'mid sight and sound
And the sunshine round them sleeping,
To where the angels, Faith and Love,
The inner gates are keeping.

Then backward rolls the wondrous screen
That hides the secret place,

Where the God of Nature veils himself
In the brighter realms of grace :
But they who have not bent the knee
Will smile at this my story;
For, though they enter the temple gates,
They know not the inner glory.



IN South America the features of Nature are traced on a gigantic scale. Mountains, forests, rivers, plains, there appear in far more colossal dimensions than in our part of the world. Many a branch of the Amazon surpasses the Danube in size. In the boundless primitive forests of Guiana more than one Great Britain could find room. The Alps would seem but of moderate elevation if placed beside the towering Andes; and the plains of Northern Germany and Holland are utterly insignificant when compared with the Llanos of Venezuela and New Grenada, which cover a surface of more than 250,000 square miles.

Nothing can be more remarkable than the contrast which these immeasurable plains present at various seasons of the year-now parched by a long-continued drought, and now covered with the most luxuriant vegetation. When, day after day, the sun, rising and setting in a cloudless sky, pours his vertical rays upon the thirsty Llanos, the calcined grass-plains present the monotonous aspect of an interminable waste. Like the ocean, their limits melt in the hazy distance with those of the horizon; but here the resemblance ceases, for no refreshing breeze wafts coolness over the desert, and comforts the drooping spirits of the wanderer.

In the wintry solitudes of Siberia the skin of the reindeer affords protection to man against the extreme cold; but in these sultry plains there is no refuge from the burning sun above, and the heat reflected from the glowing soil, save where, at vast intervals, small clumps of the Mauritia palm afford a scanty shade. The water-pools which nourished this beneficent tree have long since disappeared; and the marks of the previous rainy season, still visible on the tall reeds that spring from the marshy ground, serve only to mock the thirst of the exhausted traveller. The long-legged jabiru and the scarlet ibis have forsaken the dried-up swamp, which no longer affords them any subsistence; and only here and there a solitary Caracara falcon lingers on the spot, as if meditating on the vicissitudes of the season. Yet even now the parched savannah has some refreshment to bestow, as Naturewhich in the East Indian forests fills the pitcher-plant with a grateful liquid, and in the waterless Kalahari in South Africa, causes many juicy roots to thrive under the surface of the desert -here also displays her bounty; for the globular melon-cactus, which flourishes on the driest soil, and sometimes measures a foot in diameter, conceals a juicy pulp under its tough and prickly skin. Guided by an admirable instinct, the wary mule strikes off with his fore-feet the long, sharp thorns of this remarkable plant, the emblem of good nature under a rough exterior, and then cautiously approaches his lips to sip the refreshing juice. Yet, drinking from these living sources is not unattended with danger, and mules are often met with that have been lamed by the formidable prickles of the cactus. The wild horse and ox of the savannah, not gifted with the same sagacity, roam about a prey to hunger and burning thirst, the latter hoarsely bellowing, the former snuffing up the air with outstretched neck, to discover by its moisture the neighbourhood of some pool that may have resisted the general drought.

As in the arctic regions the intense cold during winter retards pulsation, or even suspends the operations of life, so in the Llanos the long continuance of drought causes a similar stagnation in animated nature. The thinly scattered trees and shrubs do not,

indeed, cast their foliage, but the grayish yellow of their leaves announces that vegetation is suspended. Buried in the clay of the dried-up pools, the alligator and the water-boa lie plunged in a deep summer sleep, like the bear of the North in his long winter slumber; and many animals which, at other times, are found roaming over the Llanos-such as the peccary, and the timid deer of the savannah-have left the parched plains and migrated to the forest or the river. The large maneless puma, and the spotted jaguar, following their prey to less arid regions, are now no longer seen in their former hunting-grounds; and the Indian has also disappeared with the stag he pursued with his poisoned arrows. In Siberia, the reindeer and the migratory birds are scared away by winter; here life is banished and suspended by an intolerable heat.

Sometimes the ravages of fire are added to complete the image of death on the parched savannah.

"We had not yet penetrated far into the plain," says Sir Robert Schomburgh, "when we saw to the south-east high columns of smoke ascending to the skies, the sure signs of a savannah fire, and at the same time the Indians anxiously pressed us to speed on, as the burning torrent would most likely roll in our direction. Although at first we were inclined to consider their fears exaggerated, yet the next half hour served to convince us of the extreme peril of our situation. In whatever direction we gazed, we nowhere saw a darker patch in the grass-plain announcing the refuge of a water-pool; we could already distinguish the flames of the advancing column, already hear the bursting and crackling of the reeds, when fortunately the sharp eye of the Indians discovered some small eminences before us, only sparingly covered with a low vegetation, and to these we now careered as if Death himself was behind us. Half a minute later and I should never have lived to relate our adventures. With beating hearts we saw the sea of fire rolling its devouring billows towards us: the suffocating smoke, striking in our faces, forced us to turn our backs upon the advancing conflagration, and to await the dreadful decision with the resignation of helpless despair.

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