For Memorizing THE ARROW AND THE SONG. I shot an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I know not where; I breathed a song into the air, Long, long afterwards, in an oak -Longfellow. THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. The breaking waves dashed high on a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky their giant branches tossed; And the heavy night hung dark the hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark on the wild New England shore. For Memorizing Not as the conqueror comes, they, the true-hearted, came; of fame; Not as the flying come, in silence and in fear; They shook the depths of the desert gloom with their hymns of lofty cheer. Amidst the storm they sang, and the stars heard, and the sea; And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang with the anthems of the free! The ocean eagle soared from his nest by the white wave's foam, And the rocking pines of the forest roared, this was their welcome home! There were men with hoary hair amiast that pilgrim band; Why had they come to wither there away from their childhood's land? There was woman's fearless eye, lit by her deep love's truth; There was manhood's brow serenely high, and the fiery heart of youth. What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels of the mine? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war?- They sought a faith's pure shrine! Ay, call it holy ground, the soil where first they trod: They left unstained, what there they found,- Freedom to worship God. -Mrs Hemans. For Memorizing HOW SLEEP THE BRAVE! How sleep the brave, who sink to rest By fairy hands their knell is rung; -William Collins. ONE BY ONE. One by one the sands are flowing, One by one thy duties wait thee; Let thy whole strength go to each; Let no future dreams elate thee; Learn thou first what these can teach. For Memorizing One by one, bright gifts from heaven, One by one thy griefs shall meet thee; Do not look at life's long sorrow; See how small each moment's pain; Every hour that fleets so slowly Hours are golden links,- God's token -Adelaide A. Proctor. For Memorizing THE BUILDERS. All are architects of Fate, Working in these walls of Time; Some with massive deeds and great, Some with ornaments of rhyme. Nothing useless is, or low; Each thing in its place is best; For the structure that we raise, Our todays and yesterdays Are the blocks with which we build. Truly shape and fasten these; Leave no yawning gaps between; Think not, because no man sees, Such things will remain unseen. In the elder days of art, Builders wrought with greatest care Each minute and unseen part; For the Gods see everywhere. Let us do our work as well. Both the unseen and the seen; Make the house where Gods may dwell |