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2. Over the dim cloudlet, soar, musical cherub, singing, away! o'er fountain sheen and fell, o'er green mountain and moor, o'er the red streamer that heralds the day, over the rainbow's rim. (Six lines; four dimeters and two trimeters, the third line rhyming with the sixth, the others, in couplets.)

3. Let the trumpets, lads, be suing for us: to pleasure calling; calling to ruin! Our life is stormy; such is its boon. (Six lines, dimeter -catalectic.)

4. To the chief who advances in triumph, hail! Be the ever-green pine blest and honored! may the tree, in his banner that glances, the shelter and grace of our line, long flourish! (Four lines, tetrameter— catalectic-rhyming alternately.)

EXERCISE LXXVIII.

The following extracts are intended to illustrate some of the varieties of meter and stanza. Bring in the passages copied on paper, with the versification marked. In marking the versification, mark first each accented syllable and then mark the others as unaccented. When a number of lines in any piece have been thus marked, determine whether the movement is Iambic, Trochaic, Anapestic, or Dactylic, and divide it off accordingly into feet. The proper designation should then be given to the verse, as being Iambic, Trochaic, etc., and as being monometer, dimeter, trimeter, tetrameter, etc. Thus in the following lines, the first is Iambic trimeter; the second is Trochaic tetrameter; the third is Anapestic tetrameter; the fourth is Dactylic trimeter-catalectic:

1. Stand up and bless | the Lord. |

2. | Who are in those graves we | know not. |

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3. | At the dead | of the night | a sweet vision I saw. |

4. Ferry me over the | ferry. |

In the case of rhyming passages, the rhyme should be described as being in couplets, quatrains, sonnet-meter, etc., and the formula for the rhyme and stanza should be given.

1. Italy, loved of the sun,

Wooed of the sweet winds and wed by the sea,
When, since the nations begun,

Was other inheritance like unto thee?-Bayard Taylor.

2. I know not where his islands lift

Their fronded palms in air;

I only know I can not drift

Beyond his love and care.- Whittier.

3. When breezes are soft and skies are fair,
I steal an hour from study and care,
And hie me away to the woodland scene,
Where wanders the stream with waters of green,
As if the bright fringe of herbs on its brink
Had given their stain to the wave they drink;

And they whose meadows it murmurs through,

Have named the stream from its own fair hue.—W.C. Bryant.

4. I thought the sparrow's note from heaven,
Singing at dawn on the alder bough;

I brought him home, in his nest, at even;

He sings the song, but it cheers not now,

For I did not bring home the river and sky;-
He sang to my ear,-they sang to my eye.-Emerson.

5. If our faith in Thee was shaken,

Pardon Thou our hearts mistaken,
Our obedience re-awaken.

6. Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Thro' the wave that runs forever
By the island in the river

Flowing down to Camelot.

Four gray walls, and four gray towers,

Overlook a space of flowers,

And the silent isle embowers

The Lady of Shalott.-Tennyson.

7. Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship

Upon a painted ocean.-Coleridge.

8. Rarely, rarely, comest thou, Spirit of Delight:

Wherefore hast thou left me now

Many a day and night?

Many a weary night and day

'Tis since thou art fled away.-Shelley. 9. Launch thy bark, mariner!

Christian, God speed thee!
Let loose the rudder-bands-
Good angels lead thee!
Set thy sails warily;

Tempests will come;

Steer thy course steadily;

Christian, steer home!—Mrs. Southey.

10. I'll not leave thee, thou lone one, To pine on the stem;

Since the lovely are sleeping,

Go sleep thou with them.

Thus kindly I scatter

Thy leaves o'er the bed,

Where thy mates of the garden

Lie scentless and dead.—Moore.

11. When reposing that night on my pallet of straw,

By the wolf-scaring fagot that guarded the slain,

At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw,

And thrice ere the morning I dreamt it again.-Campbell.

12. Touch us gently, Time!

We've not proud nor soaring wings:

Our ambition, our content

Lies in simple things.

Rhet.-31.

Humble voyagers are we,

O'er Life's dim, unsounded sea,
Seeking only some calm clime:-

Touch us gently, gentle Time!-B. W. Procter.
13. And I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy
Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be
Borne, like thy bubbles, onward: from a boy
I wantoned with thy breakers-they to me
Were a delight; and if the freshening sea
Made them a terror-'t was a pleasing fear,
For I was as it were a child of thee,

And trusted to thy billows far and near,

And laid my hand upon thy mane-as I do here.—Byron. 14. Dwell within us, blessed Spirit ;

Where thou art, no ill can come;
Bless us now, through Jesus' merit;
Reign in every heart and home.

15. O then shall the veil be removed,

And round me Thy brightness be poured;

I shall see Him whom, absent, I loved,
Whom, not having seen, I adored.

16. The Lord my Shepherd is;

I shall be well supplied;

Since he is mine, and I am his,

What can I want beside?—Watts.

17. The Lord himself, the mighty Lord,
Vouchsafes to be my guide;

The shepherd, by whose constant care
My wants are all supplied.

18. My God, permit me not to be

A stranger to myself and thee;

Amidst a thousand thoughts I rove,
Forgetful of my highest love.

19. Hail to the brightness of Zion's glad morning;
Joy to the lands that in darkness have lain ;
Hushed be the accents of sorrow and mourning;
Zion in triumph begins her mild reign.-T. Hastings.

20. Who knows the errors of his thoughts?
My God, forgive my secret faults,

And from presumptuous sins restrain;
Accept my poor attempts of praise,
That I have read thy book of grace,
And book of nature, not in vain.

21. Swell the anthem, raise the song;
Praises to our God belong;

Saints and angels, join to sing
Praises to the heavenly King.

22. In Death's kindly bosom our last hope remains:
The dead fear no tyrants; the grave has no chains.
On, on to the combat! the heroes that bleed

For virtue and mankind, are heroes indeed!

And, oh! e'en if Freedom from this world be driven,
Despair not—at least we shall find her in heaven!—Moore.

23. 'Tis the wink of an eye, 'tis the draught of a breath,
From the blossom of health to the paleness of death,—
From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud,—
O why should the spirit of mortal be proud?-Knox.

24. Creep into thy narrow bed,

Creep, and let no more be said!

Vain thy onset, all stands fast.

Thou thyself must break at last.-Arnold.

25. Christmas is here;

Winds whistle shrill,

Icy and chill.

Little care we;

Little we fear

Weather without,

Sheltered about

The mahogany-tree.-Thackeray.

26. Break, break, break,

At the foot of thy crags, O Sea!

But the tender grace of a day that is dead

Will never come back to me.—Tennyson.

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