ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE MONOTONE. INVOCATION TO LIGHT. Opening of the Third Book of "Paradise Lost.” Hail, holy Light! offspring of heaven first-born, Or of the Eternal co-eternal beam, May I express thee unblamed? since God is light, Escaped the Stygian pool, though long detain'd I sung of Chaos and eternal Night; Taught by the heavenly Muse to venture down Harmonious numbers; as the wakeful bird Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Of nature's works, to me expunged and rased, Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers ARTEVELDE'S FAREWELL TO THE CITIZENS OF GHENT. - Henry Taylor Then fare ye well, ye citizens of Ghent! DARKNESS. I had a dream, which was not all a dream. The bright sun was extinguished, and the stars Rayless and pathless, and the icy earth Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air; Byron. Morn came, and went, and came, and brought no day, Of this their desolation; and all hearts And they did live by watch-fires; and the thrones, The habitations of all things which dwell, Happy were those who dwelt within the eye The flashes fell upon them. Some lay down And others hurried to and fro, and fed Their funeral piles with fuel, and look'd up, With mad disquietude, on the dull sky, The pall of a past world; and then again With curses, cast them down upon the dust, And gnash'd their teeth, and howl'd. The wild birds shriek'd And flap their useless wings: the wildest brutes Gorging himself in gloom: no love was left; All earth was but one thought- and that was death, Of famine fed upon all entrails. Men Died; and their bones were tombless as their flesh: Even dogs assail'd their masters, all save one, And he was faithful to a corse, and kept The birds, and beasts, and famished men at bay, Lured their lank jaws: himself sought out no food, And a quick, desolate cry, licking the hand The crowd was famished by degrees. But two Of an enormous city did survive, And they were enemies. They met beside The dying embers of an altar-place, Where had been heap'd a mass of holy things For an unholy usage. They raked up, And shivering, scraped, with their cold, skeleton hands, The feeble ashes; and their feeble breath Blew for a little life, and made a flame Which was a mockery. Then they lifted up Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld Each other's aspects. saw, and shriek'd, and died; Famine had written Fiend. The world was void: The rivers, lakes, and ocean, all stood still, And nothing stirr'd within their silent depths. Ships, sailorless, lay rotting on the sea, And their masts fell down piecemeal: as they dropp'd, They slept on the abyss, without a surge, The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave; The moon, their mistress, had expired before; The winds were wither'd in the stagnant air, And the clouds perish'd; darkness had no need Of aid from them-she was the universe. PITCH, Continued. The various degrees of pitch may be thus represented: Very high High Middle Low Very low á-à-delightful, joyous, glorious. á — à-faith, peace, temperance, charity. "That, in the formation of language, men have been much influenced by a regard to the nature of things and actions meant to be represented, is a fact of which every known speech gives proof. In our own language, for instance, who does not perceive in the sound of the words thunder, boundless, terrible, a something appropriate to the sublime ideas intended to be conveyed? In the word crash we hear the very action implied. Imp, elf,— how descriptive of the miniature beings to which we apply them! Fairy,how light and tripping, just like the fairy herself!-the word, no more than the thing, seems fit to bend the grass-blade, or shake the tear from the blue-eyed flower."- Robert Chalmers. Examples. Very High Pitch. "There's a dance of leaves in that aspen bower, There's a smile on the fruit and a smile on the flower, "Ring joyous chords! -ring out again! A swifter still and a wilder strain! And bring fresh wreaths!. - we will banish all Save the free in heart from our festive hall. On through the maze of the fleet dance, on!"—Mrs. Hemans. "On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet.” — Byron. High Pitch. "A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again, F |