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ASTOR, LENOX AND TILDEN FOUNDATIONS.

Starts into life a dim, gigantic shape,
Holding its lantern o'er the restless surge.

IV.

And the great ships sail outward and return, Bending and bowing o'er the billowy swells; And ever joyful, as they see it burn,

They wave their silent welcomes and farewells.

V.

The mariner remembers when a child,

On his first voyage, he saw it fade and sink,
And when, returning from adventures wild,
He saw it rise again o'er ocean's brink.

VI.

The sea-bird wheeling round it, with the din
Of wings and winds and solitary cries,
Blinded and maddened by the light within,
Dashes himself against the glare, and dies.

VII.

The startled waves leap over it; the storm
Smites it with all the scourges of the rain;
And steadily against its solid form

Press the great shoulders of the hurricane.

VIII.

Steadfast, serene, immovable, the same

Year after year, through all the silent night, Burns on for evermore that quenchless flame, Shines on that unextinguishable light!

IX.

"Sail on!" it says, "sail on, ye stately ships!

And with your floating bridge the ocean span; Be mine to guard this light from all eclipse— Be yours to bring man nearer unto man!" LONGFELLOW.

LXXXI.-AN OLD-FASHIONED SNOW-STORM.

1. It was one of those wide-sweeping, careering storms that may not much affect the city, but which strongly impress the country imagination with a sense of the personal qualities of the weather-power, persistency, fierceness and roaring exultation. Out-doors was terrible to those who looked out of windows, and heard the raging wind, and saw the commotion in all the high tree-tops and the writhing of the low evergreens, and could not summon resolution to go forth and breast and conquer the bluster. The sky was dark with snow, which was not permitted to fall peacefully, like a blessed mantle, as it sometimes does, but was blown and rent and tossed like the split canvas of a ship in a gale.

2. The world was taken possession of by the demons of the air, who had their will of it. There is a sort of fascination in such a scene equal to that of a tempest at sea, and without its attendant and haunting sense of peril; there is no fear that the house will founder or dash against your neighbor's cottage, which is dimly seen anchored across the field; at every thundering onset there is no fear that the cook's galley will upset, or the screw break loose and smash through the side, and we are not in momentary expectation of the tinkling of the little bell to "stop her."

3. The snow rises in drifting waves and the naked trees bend like strained masts, but so long as the window-blinds remain fast and the chimney-tops do not go, we preserve an equal mind. Nothing more serious can happen than the failure of the butcher's and the grocer's carts, unless, indeed, the little news-carrier should fail to board us with the world's daily bulletin, or our next-door neighbor should be deterred from coming to sit by the blazing, excited fire, and interchange the trifling, harmless gossip of the day. The feeling of seclusion on such a day is sweet, but the true friend who does brave the storm and come is welcomed with a sort of enthusiasm that his arrival in pleasant weather would never excite.

4. On such a day I recall the great snow-storms on the

northern New England hills, which lasted for a week with no cessation, with no sunrise or sunset and no observation at noon, and the sky all the while dark with the driving snow, and the whole world full of the noise of the rioting Boreal forces, until the roads were obliterated, the fences covered, and the snow was piled solidly above the first-story windows of the farmhouse on one side, and drifted before the front door so high that egress could only be had by tunneling the bank.

5. After such a battle and siege, when the wind fell and the sun struggled out again, the pallid world lay subdued and tranquil, and the scattered dwellings were not unlike wrecks stranded by the tempest and half buried in sand. But when the blue sky again bent over all, when the wide expanse of snow sparkled like diamond-fields and the chimney signal-smokes could be seen, how beautiful was the picture! Then began the stir abroad, and the efforts to open up communication through roads or fields or wherever paths could be broken, and the ways to the meeting-house first of all.

6. Then from every house and hamlet the men turned out with shovels, with the patient, lumbering oxen yoked to the sleds, to break the roads, driving into the deepest drifts, shoveling and shouting as if the severe labor were a holiday frolic, the courage and the hilarity rising with the difficulties encountered ; and relief parties, meeting at length in the midst of the wide white desolation, hailed each other as chance explorers in a new land and made the whole country-side ring with the noise of their congratulations.

7. There was as much excitement and healthy stirring of the blood in it as in the Fourth of July, and perhaps as much patriotism. The boy saw it in dumb show from the distant low farm-house window and wished he were a man. At night there were great stories of achievement told by the cavernous fireplace; great latitude was permitted in the estimation of the size of particular drifts, but never any agreement was reached as to the "depth on a level." I have observed since that people are quite as apt to agree upon the marvelous and the exceptional as upon simple facts. C. D. WARNER.

THROUGH TRIALS.

I.

THROUGH night to light. And though to mortal eyes
Creation's face a pall of horror wear,

Good cheer, good cheer! The gloom of midnight flies,
Then shall a sunrise follow, mild and fair.

II.

Through storm to calm. And though his thunder-car
The rumbling tempest drive through earth and sky,
Good cheer, good cheer! The elemental war
Tells that a blessed healing hour is nigh.

III.

Through frost to spring. And though the biting blast
Of Eurus stiffen Nature's juicy veins,

Good cheer, good cheer! When winter's wrath is past,
Soft murmuring spring breathes sweetly o'er the plains.

IV.

Through strife to peace. And though, with bristling front, A thousand frightful depths encompass thee,

Good cheer, good cheer! Brave thou the battle's brunt For the peace-march and song of victory.

V.

Through cross to crown. And though thy spirit's life
Trials untold assail with giant strength,

Good cheer, good cheer!

Soon ends the bitter strife, And thou shalt reign in peace with Christ at length.

VI.

Through death to life. And through this vale of tears,
And through this thistle-field of life, ascend
To the great supper in that world whose years
Of bliss unfading, cloudless, know no end.

FROM THE GERMAN OF ROSEGARTEN.

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