Alphonse De Lamartine. FROM "THE DEATH OF SOCRATES." "KNOW'ST thou the way to that invisible shore?" Said Cebes: " Hath thine eye then scanned it o'er ? "Friends, to that world my steps are drawing near, More and more clearly I its music hear, And to behold its scenes with open eye-" "What, must we?" Phedon said. and die! "Be pure There is, somewhere in the immense expanse, Far overhead beyond the arching skies, To take the crown of earthly martyrdom! Plays round it, and her breath with perfumes rare The vales of Hemus, nor the rich hill-sides Where the charmed traveller thinks of home no more, Where the soul's daylight is the look of God! "What! bodies ev'n in heaven? side by side, All that is present in the world of sense, The purple tinge Aurora gives her sails, And she who, once bound down with many a chain, * He seemed to slumber in a dream's embrace. The intrepid Cebes, gazing in his face, By every art of yearning friendship tries To summon back into his fading eyes The soul fast parting with the feeble breath, And questions him e'en on the brink of death: 66 Sleep'st thou? Is death a slumber? Speak!" he Amidst the shades a pure and heavenly day!" "Hear'st thou no groans “ Nay ; no lamentations?" But stars of gold that, as in heaven they flame, "What feelest thou?" alis “What the young Chrys Feels, when she bursts her coil, in freedom's bliss! The breath of morning wafts her through the skies!" "And hast thou taught us truth? reply!..." The soul "Believe this smile; the soul shall never die ! "What waitest thou, that thou from earth may'st flee?" "A breath, as waits the ship, impatient for the "No; leave my soul alone, in peace to soar!' Dr. Chatfield. MUSINGS IN THE TEMPLE OF NATURE. MAN can build nothing worthy of his Maker,- All, all are vain. The wondrous world which He himself created And praises poured. Its altar, earth; its roof, the sky untainted; Sun, moon, and stars, are lamps that give it light; And clouds, by the celestial Artist painted, Its pictures bright. |