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Thy diadem is an emerald green, of the clearest, purest

hue, Set 'round with waves of snow-white foam, and spray of

feathery dew; White tresses of the brightest pearls float o'er thine

ample sheet, And the rainbow lays its gorgeous gems in tribute at

thy feet.

Thy reign is from the ancient days, thy scepter from on

high ; Thy birth was when the distant stars first lit the glow:

ing sky; The sun, the moon, and all the orbs that shine upon

thee now,

Saw the first wreath of glory that entwined thy infant

brow.

And from that hour to this, in which I gaze upon thy

stream, From age to age, in winter's frost, in summer's sultry

beam, By day, by night, without a pause, thy waves, with loud

acclaim, In ceaseless sounds have still proclaimed the great Eter:

nal's name.

For whether on thy forest banks, the Indian of the

wood, Or, since his day, the red man's foe on his fatherland

have stood, Whoe'er has seen thy incense rise, or heard thy torrents

roar, Must have bent before the God of all, to worship and

adore.

Accept, then, O Supremely Great! 0 Infinite! O God!
From this primeval altar, the pure and virgin sod,
The humble homage that my soul, in gratitude, would

pay To Thee, whose shield has guarded me, in all iny wan

dering way. For, if the ocean be as naught in the hollow of Thy

hand, And the stars of the bright firmament, in Thy balance,

grains of sand; If Niagara's rolling flood seem great to us who humbly

bow, O Great Creator of the whole! how passing great art

Thou !

But though Thy power is far more vast than finite

minds can scan, Still greater is Thy mercy shown to weak, dependent

man :

For him Thou clothest the fertile globe with herbs, and

fruit, and seed; For him the seas, the lakes, the streams, supply his hourly

need.

Around, on high, or far, or near, the universal whole Proclaims Thy glory, as the stars in their fixed courses

roll;

And from creation's grateful voice, the hymn ascends

above, While heaven re-echoes back to earth the chorus, “GOD IS LOVE.”

J. S. BUCKINGHAM.

Diligence, industry, and proper improvement of time, are material duties of the young.

LXXXVII.—DEATH OF ABSALOM.

1. And David numbered the people that were with him, and set captains of thousands and captains of hundreds over them. And David sent forth a third part of the people under the hand of Joab, and a third part under the hand of Abishai, the son of Zeruiah, Joab's brother, and a third part under the hand of Ittai, the Gittite.

2. And the king said unto the people, I will surely go forth with you myself also. But the people answered, Thou shalt not go forth : for if we flee away, they will not care for us; neither if half of us die, will they care for us; but now thou art worth ten thousand of us; therefore now it is better that thou succor us out of the city. And the king said unto them, What seemeth you best, I will do.

3. And the king stood by the gate-side, and all the people came out. by hundreds and by thousands. And the king commanded Joab, and Abishai, and Ittai, saying, Deal gently, for my sake, with the young man, even with Absalom. And all the people heard when the king gave all the captains charge concerning Absalom.

4. So the people went out into the field against Israel ; and the battle was in the wood of Ephraim; where the people of Israel were slain before the servants of David, and there was there a great slaughter that day of twenty thousand men.

For the battle was there scattered over the face of all the country; and the wood devoured more people that day than the sword devoured.

5. And Absalom met the servants of David. And Absalom rode upon a mule, and the mule went under the thick boughs of a great oak, and his head caught hold of the oak, and he was taken up between the heaven

and the earth; and the mule that was under him went away.

6. And a certain man saw it, and told Joab, and said, Behold, I saw Absalom hanged in an oak. And Joab said unto the man that told him, And behold, thou sawest him, and why didst thou not smite him there to the ground? and I would have given thee ten shekels of silver and a girdle.

7. And the man said unto Joab, Though I should receive a thousand shekels of silver in my hand, yet would I not put forth my hand against the king's son; for, in our hearing, the king charged thee and Abishai, and Ittai, saying, Beware that none touch the young man Absalom. Otherwise, I should have wrought falsehood against mine own life; for there is no matter hid from the king, and thou thyself wouldst have set thyself against

me.

8. Then said Joab, I may not tarry thus with thee. And he took three darts in his hand, and thrust them through the heart of Absalom, while he was yet alive in the midst of the oak. And ten young men that bare Joab's armor compassed about, and smote Absalom, and slew him. And Joab blew the trumpet, and the people returned from pursuing after Israel ; for Joab held back the people.

9. And they took Absalom, and cast him into a great pit in the wood, and laid a very great heap of stones upon him; and all Israel fled, every one to his tent. *** Then said Joab to Cushi, Go tell the king what thou hast seen.

And Cushi bowed himself unto Joab, and And Cushi answered, The enemies of my lord the king, and all that rise against thee to do thee hurt, be as that young man is.

* * *

ran.

10. And behold, Cushi came; and Cushi said, Tidings, my lord the king; for the Lord hath avenged thee this day of all them that rose up against thee. And the king said unto Cushi, Is the young man Absalom safe?

11. And the king was much moved, and went up to the chamber over the gate, and wept; and as he went, thus he said, O my son Absalom! my son, my son Absalom! would to God I had died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my son !

BIBLE.

6

12. Alas! my noble boy, that thou shouldst die !

Thou, who wert made so beautifully fair!
That death should settle in thy glorious eye,

And leave his stillness in thy clustering hair;
How could he mark thee for the silent tomb,

My proud boy, Absalom!
13. Cold is thy brow, my son, and I am chill.

As to my bosom I have tried to press thee,
How was I wont to feel my pulses thrill,

Like a rich harp-string, yearning to caress thee,
And hear thy sweet “My father' from these dumb

And cold lips, Absalom ! 14. The grave hath won thee. I shall hear the gush

Of music, and the voices of the young;
And life will pass me in the mantling blush,

And the dark tresses to the soft winds flung;
But thou no more, with thy sweet voice, shalt

come

To meet me, Absalom ! 15. And 0, when I am stricken, and my heart,

Like a bruised reed, is waiting to be broken, How will its love for thee, as I depart,

Yearn for thine ear to drink its last deep token! It were so sweet, amid death's gathering gloom,

To see thee, Absalom !

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