134 A MUSICAL INSTRUMENT. Then drew the pith like the heart of a man, Then notched the poor dry empty thing "This is the way," laughed the great god Pan, (Laughed while he sate by the river!) "The only way since gods began To make sweet music, they could succeed;" Sweet, sweet, sweet, O Pan, Yet half a beast is the great god Pan, The true gods sigh for the cost and the pain THE DYING GLADIATOR. LORD BYRON. I see before me the Gladiator lie: He leans upon his hand-his manly brow And his droop'd head sinks gradually low-- Like the first of a thunder shower; and now The arena swims around him—he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hail'd the wretch who won. He heard it, but he heeded not-his eyes THE TEACHER'S DREAM. W. H. VENABLE. HE weary teacher sat alone And not a sound was heard around, The weary teacher sat alone, Bowed 'neath a yoke of care, he spoke "Another round, another round, Of labor thrown awayAnother chain of toil and pain Dragged through a tedious day. "Of no avail is constant zeal, The hopes of morn, so golden, turn, "I squander on a barren field My strength, my life, my all; THE TEACHER'S DREAM. The seeds I sow will never grow, They perish where they fall." He sighed, and low upon his hands And o'er his frame ere long there came And then he lifted up his face, But started back aghast The room by strange and sudden change It seemed a Senate-hall, and one The 'wildered teacher thought he knew "And for his name," said he, "the same The stately Senate-hall dissolved A church rose in its place, Wherein there stood a man of God, Dispensing words of grace. And though he spoke in solemn tone, And though his hair was gray, The teacher's thought was strangely wrought"I whipped that boy to-day." The church, a phantasm, vanished soon What saw the teacher then? 137 In classic gloom of alcoved room "My idlest lad!" the teacher said, The vision of a cottage home "A miracle! a miracle! This matron, well I know, Was but a wild and careless child, "And when she to her children speaks Of duty's golden rule, Her lips repeat, in accents sweet, The scene was changed again, and lo, The school-house rude and old, Upon the wall did darkness fall, The evening air was cold. "A dream!" the sleeper, waking, said, Then paced along the floor, And whistling slow and soft and low, He locked the school-house door. |